He Who Fell Off the Heaviside Layer
by Grando181
Summary: The storyteller's memories corrode with time, moments of happiness are byproducts of broken dreams. A nonlinear bit of fiction that's utterly wrong and should not be read by anyone. :P
1. Corroding Memories

**He Who Fell Off the Heaviside Layer**

By Grando181 (aka AnimalBoyThing)

* * *

**Special Thanks to** Rem to whom I owe my love of this fandom too and some character development, Sasha for your Rumpleteazer to my Plato text messages, Taintie for being awesome even if not nearly as awesome as me, and a big hug to Kale, who absolutely _abhors_ cats but likes all the nefarious things in this story and was able to give me guidance. (Shameless plug for Kale's webcomic/story "A Broken Winter;" google it).

**Disclaimer:** _CATS_ is the byproduct of T.S. Eliot's poetry and Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical genius. All views and opinions expressed in the following fanfiction are the personal views and expressions of the author, and, quite frankly, fiction. Due to its nature, it is recommended that no one read this fanfiction unless they enjoy perversity, darkness, and things that are never discussed even in a B-Rated _Lifetime_ movie. This bastardization will contain as many pairings as possible, hopefully gore, and other nefarious things. The author highly recommends you listen to the band, Sigur Rós – who have absolutely nothing to do with this fanfiction but are a really damn good band.

* * *

**I – Corroding Memories**

Munkustrap could barely keep up with the happenings of the tribe, too many changes occurring in too little time. He could barely remember the way things used to be, just even a year ago. Sure, he knew the events that happened by heart, but they might as well have been text or a movie, maybe the fables he told to the Jellicles.

He missed that time. Then, things weren't so serious, some of the toms just outgrowing kitten stage, not yet adults.

Victoria and Plato were still virgins. They'd officially mated, but Plato was so terrified of breaking her that he never made a significant move despite his friends' teases. It was Victoria who instigated it, tugging Plato with her into padded trunk of the broken car and tugged the lid shut. He lay on his back, dropped his hands, and then moved them away whispering sorry. In return, she only put Plato's hands back where they were.

Lost in the moment, Plato forgot to pull out, or maybe Victoria tightened her legs around him to keep him still to savor the moment. When it was done, before allowing himself to bask in the afterglow, Plato concerned himself with cleansing the blood on her white fur with a blush on his cheeks and a lot of "Wows" and "I love yous" on his lips.

He never thought she'd get pregnant the first time; he didn't even know that was possible. Somehow, Munkustrap doubted that Victoria thought it possible either.

Munkustrap was there when Victoria told Plato the news. She pulled him aside, away from his friends not so subtly. With an anxious smile, she took Plato's large brown paw in her tiny white hand and placed it on her abdomen, and Plato, bless his heart, said, "Cramps? Aww, babe, I'm sorry. You want me to get you some yellowtail or something?"

Munkustrap was also right there, hand on Plato's arm when Victoria whispered, "we're pregnant," the gears in his head turned, and he screamed, "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!" Hyperventilating, Plato dropped to the ground, Victoria then breaking into tears, Mistoffelees by her side yelling that Plato was an asshole while Alonzo took Plato's saying Mistoffelees needed to shut his hole and mind his own damn business. Not that anyone really had privacy who was a Jellicle.

Someone had to be the voice of reason in that terse of a situation, and Munkustrap would fill those shoes. He'd let Alonzo, Tumblebrutus, and Pouncival talk to Plato quasi-privately, thinking maybe the tom would open up to his friends, but broke it up as soon as they got on his ass about being a dumb ass for not pulling out and being too stupid to figure the mechanics of sex out. Alonzo almost seemed to relish in taking his best friend down a notch while the brothers, who Munkustrap was certain knew _nothing_ about sex in the first place, piggybacked on his words.

Munkustrap couldn't let them taunt Plato as he guided the young tom aside, arm around his back as Plato put his head in his paws and cried. He never thought that his life of a stray would soon end, the cat unable to accept the hospitality of the other Jellicles as he turned in his life of a stray to get a collar and accompanying human home where he could steal the food that was meant for him and bring it back home to provide. Alonzo worried about his friend's fatigue, but Plato said it was nothing for Victoria even though Plato's temper wore short, noticeably so, and he began slamming things, anything to make a noise if he was reprimanded for being too immature, or the kids yelled, or Victoria wasn't in the mood after a long, stressful day. Those nights, he'd go elsewhere and grip his length so hard it was painful while he'd spy on his friends being intimate with one another or themselves. He knew Alonzo's quirks by heart and how he'd wiggle his hips right before he came, the weird noises and grunts Pouncival would emit when thinking he was alone, and the smell of Admetus's enhancing additives. Plato had no remorse for his friends' privacy. By that point, he was too bitter to care.

* * *

Tumblebrutus used to be sweet, the definition of a Momma's boy (and really the omega of the rat pack), before he got fed up with all the teasing, maybe the boys going one joke too far, and got into nip. The worst part was that nobody noticed the change in Tumblebrutus, Munkustrap included. _Hormones_, Jellylorum believed in regard to her son's sometimes erratic behavior, _he's about that age_. And maybe there were a few comments on his weight loss from some of the girls, ones that everyone but Pouncival didn't seem bugged by. Tumblebrutus had never been one to keep secrets, but Pouncival began to feel like he didn't know his brother at all. Maybe it was the same for everyone and no one knew him. No one knew Tumblebrutus had his first kiss and sexual experience with a trained Mr. Mistoffelees until months after it happened, a high Tumblebrutus laughing to his friends about how great it was, that Mistoffelees was so much fun to play with and was willing to share his nip. His friends were mortified, and that night Alonzo stole the rest of his stash while Pouncival and Plato went to confront Mistoffelees, and then Admetus. "No more," Alonzo'd told Tumblebrutus, "no more of this," and the tom howled, and argued, and became subdued and shy, the way he used to be, and, in silence, Alonzo forgot. So did Munkustrap when the tom told him. But they took his submission for fact, taking it as his true personality versus changing hormones, a brief dabbling in nip. They looked to Pouncival as a prototype, as the older brother. It was Mistoffelees who told them they were wrong with a limp and busted lip.

Tumblebrutus had outsmarted them. No one knew about all the ways he'd beg Admetus to bring him a new hook up, giving him the cans of food that were meant to be his dinner, or how Tumblebrutus would service Admetus and get grass-stained knees. Admetus was too stoned to realize the desperation; business was business. The Jellicles did notice when a panting Mungojerrie carried Tumblebrutus's barely breathing body, bloodied and limp, to the junkyard, Rumpleteazer panicking as she tried to explain what they witnessed. The tom, having gone to Macavity's turf in order to get more after being cut off by Admetus, made the mistake of asking the first tom he saw where he could get a hook up, and what could he do. That cat was Jazzernik, second-hand cat to one of the gang leaders under Macavity, Fangor, and after deliberation said he thought they could do something. That something involved no nip, but being beaten down and tied, Fangor's gang of eight each taking their turn with the diseased albino leader taking the last round. "If you came sooner, I would have given you a go," Fangor addressed Mungojerrie while gripping Tumblebrutus's hips. It'd taken a distraction for Mungojerrie to grab Tumblebrutus when they were done, leaving him on the street for dead or more fun later, and Rumpleteazer murmured prayers.

"He can't be touched," Mungojerrie said, looking directly at Mistoffelees, then Jemima, then Alonzo. "He can't."

"You're touching him right now, asswipe," Pouncival growled, grabbing his brother from the hold, stunned at how much weight his brother had lost, Jellylorum joining the pair in a hurry, a hand touching her youngest son's forehead.

"… He didn't mean it that way," Rumpleteazer murmured quietly. Jemima's eyes watered, Mistoffelees looked to the ground, and Alonzo turned his back, walked to Cassandra, gripped her in a hug, and wouldn't let go.

And no one touched Tumblebrutus except for Pouncival and Jellylorum, the family making sure to never leave him too long unattended.

* * *

It worsened when Tumblebrutus seemed to be getting a little better. Macavity showed up, putting an end to the fantasy that surrounded their group, saying, "Holy, Holy," though there was nothing Holy about him. He said he came to check up on his "children." No one knew what children he referred to, looks given to Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, the siblings swearing up and down that it wasn't them before Victoria stepped to the plate, sweet voice begging, "Please, Father. Leave without incident."

"You still haven't told him," Macavity assessed, smirking, looking past her. By instinct, the Jellicles followed his gaze until it fell on the magical Mr. Mistoffelees. The black tom swore that was impossible, said he remembered his parents. "Foster parents," Macavity stated bluntly. "I wanted to tie you in a bag and throw you in the Thames. Your mother convinced me otherwise. I shouldn't have listened."

"Please, Father, _leave_," Victoria begged once more.

And Macavity was gone, leaving a shaking black tom, paws near his face, claws extended as if he might scratch his own eyes out. Victoria tried to embrace him, but he shoved her away. "You knew!" he accused. "You knew the whole time! You knew everything!"

Munkustrap remembered how it struck him, the aftermath of having a niece and nephew, both extremely dear cats to him even if Mistoffelees could get a bit egotistical at times. Like a switch, Demeter became uneasy, the way she always was whenever Macavity was involved. Her body braced, and the tribe followed suit until Mistoffelees sat alone save for Victoria who kept trying to touch him and would keep getting pushed back. Munkustrap remembered the tom's heartbroken cries, and how he personally struggled to approach Mistoffelees, to ignore the distinction between sweet-faced Quaxo and his magical alter-ego. Victoria was safer; she was innocent.

But he had a job to do, the Jellicles to lead when Old Deuteronomy passed, and Munkustrap dropped to his knees, arms encircling Mistoffelees' back, listening as, in a broken whisper, the boy pleaded. "You have to tell Tugger. I can't."

Munkustrap hadn't understood at first, not knowing why the cat would be so firm about not telling the Rum Tum Tugger himself, but he was the protector, and he promised, and that evening, when he stood next to his younger brother in the alley, he watched Tugger's expression carefully. At first, he seemed confused, then said a surprised, "shit, man," and then he was silent. The Rum Tum Tugger was never silent. And it was in silence that Munkustrap understood.

They walked alongside each other, still not speaking until they got to the docks and sit on the edge, legs dangling over the side. The moon and scattered street lamps caused uneven reflections of white.

"I don't care about it. That doesn't change anything to me," Tugger had finally said, thumbs hooked on his studded belt.

"I know."

"Yeah."

"Tugger?"

"What?"

"It really doesn't matter to you?"

"Maybe. A little." Tugger gazed across the water, fingers squeezing into a fist. "I don't know what to do, Munk."

"Truthfully, I don't think it's a good idea to pursue this. It's just a bad idea. He's going to be persecuted enough; he doesn't need any contributions to that."

"How would it contribute to that?!"

"Do I really need to answer that? Think about it."

Tugger looked toward the sky. "I don't want to."

Munkustrap rest a paw on his youngest brother's shoulder. Even though by now Tugger had grown taller than Munkustrap, he seemed like the small kitten Munkustrap grew up with and helped raise when Old Deuteronomy showed signs of rapid and shocking aging. "Are you going to do what's best for you or him?" Tugger's face scrunched up, and he hung his head, thick mane shrouding his eyes like a curtain. Munkustrap turned his torso just enough to embrace his sibling and whispered, "I'm sorry, Tug. I'm so sorry."

They returned to the Junkyard by eleven, Tugger making a beeline toward Mistoffelees before leading the other down an alley. The Jellicle cats exchanged perturbed looks with the echoing sounds of the argument, words that were indistinguishable syllables, unable to be deciphered from this distance. Crying came next, a sudden wind amplifying the noise, but when it slowed, dried leaves and styrofoam cups scattered across the ground, it fell silent. Alonzo volunteered to look for them with Plato, but Munkustrap said he'd go on his own. The less cats who knew, the better.

He found them locked in embrace, cries muted in each other's fur, and, by midnight when the clock struck, the two tore apart. Until that moment, that horrible break, they kept in a tight hold. Their shadows were elongated by the long street lamp, flickering until the bulb burned out.

* * *

The best thing that ever happened to Munkustrap was the birth of his daughter. Jemima grew up sweet and innocent, Munkustrap's pride and joy with Demeter even if he'd been unable to have any other children, the curse of infertility passed from Old Deuteronomy to him. He didn't care about having any others; Jemima was all he could ever wish for. But, since she was the only one, maybe he was a bit too protective of her. Munkustrap meant well, and Jemima meant the world to him. That was why, Munkustrap reasoned, not seeing Jemima for lunch, he crept through the junkyard, taking to the shadows. He had a strange feeling, an inkling of something. That was why, Munkustrap reasoned, when he saw Jemima he clenched two fists and stalked up to where she was sitting on the ground with Tumblebrutus, head turned, kissing him fully, his paw fitting perfectly over hers as he guided it toward the crotch of his jeans. It was why, Munkustrap reasoned, he screamed, scaring Jemima and Tumblebrutus alike, Jemima breaking into tears as Munkustrap gripped Tumblebrutus by the scruff of the neck and drug him across the ground, screamed that he was a worthless niphead, someone not respectable enough for his kin, his only kin.

Munkustrap didn't think anyone would be perfect enough for Jemima, but Alonzo came close, and he'd brought up the prospect of him caring for Jemima. Alonzo's hesitancy because of his relationship with Cassandra strangely only reinforced Munkustrap's idea that this situation was and would be ideal, that Jemima wouldn't be pressured, that she would be protected. Tumblebrutus was too young, too immature, but mostly Tumblebrutus was an omega. It was after that day that Tumblebrutus began to disappear for hours and sometimes days at a time, his nip abuse developing, and Munkustrap had wondered if, inadvertently, Tumblebrutus's downfall was his fault. Sometimes, when he saw the tom struggle to walk, he knew it was his fault.

Jemima had cried that day, and said she hated Munkustrap, and it pained him, and she apologized, and begged forgiveness when he started to cry. _No tom's good enough_, Munkustrap tried to insist, sniveling, and Jemima nodded her head in reluctant agreement.

The next time he caught Jemima, she had gotten more clever, hiding inside the pipe, straddling a faintly striped tom, a small one. He'd charged them, crouching down, ready to demand what the hell was going on when their heads turned and he realized that tom was actually not a tom but Etcetera, fluffy fur matted to her skin from sweat. When Munkustrap looked at Jemima, his daughter frozen in fear, little paw hidden between Etcetera's thighs sound of the border, he passed out.

Munkustrap came to lying on a blanket, Jemima sitting next to him, his paw clutched in hers, tears wetting her fur. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"Are you--? Are you a--?"

"I don't know. I don't… I don't know. I promise I'll never… I… never again, Dad. I promise."

"Jemima, that's not what--" but he wasn't able to finish, Jemima's face buried against his chest as she sobbed. He'd embraced her and rocked slowly.

* * *

The toms still liked to play tag, even though they were getting too big for it, some of them like Alonzo, Admetus, and Plato already looking like grown toms, but they still did it, getting out a lot of their energy. Munkustrap liked to encourage their play, a stressless way to deal with tension, to be young. And, though it brought an air of nostalgia, Munkustrap couldn't help but smile when the toms would encourage Tumblebrutus to join in from where he sat on the sidelines watching. He used to always say no until Jellylorum said it was fine to tag on the shoulder and back, just not to play too hard. That inclusion would depend on how he felt then. Sometimes he declined, but usually if Pouncival couldn't rile Tumblebrutus up enough to chase him, Admetus could, and, though it probably wasn't as obvious from ground level with their shouts and excitement, Munkustrap noticed how the toms slowed their paces, sometimes allowing themselves to be tagged before passing the torch, still sometimes tagging Tumblebrutus to make sure he felt included, to make sure he didn't feel like they were pitying him.

It felt richer the afternoon they played when Mungojerrie and Coricopat had joined the boys from the get go, something that surprised the other toms until they realized it stemmed from some sort of feud over who had the better sister and they got distracted with hitting each other, much to the other tom's pleasure. But, it was the unexpected Asparagus, who definitely gave Tumblebrutus a run for his money, Tumblebrutus laughing harder than he had since diagnosis as he scooted around garbage cans, the older male not too far behind.

"Can we join, too?" Mistoffelees called optimitically as he walked up alongside Skimbleshanks, one of the only cats who hadn't shunned him for his unfortunate relation to Macavity. They parted as Tumblebrutus scooted between them, then looking to their new target.

"Skimble, prepare to be it!" Asparagus called before bellowing out, "CHAAAAARGE!" And, with a high pitched squeal, knees pulled up to his chest, arms above his head, with every step, Skimbleshanks flailed wildly as he ran around and wove through the toms, setting them off into peals of laughter.

Munkustrap laughed hard at the display, maybe louder than he thought as a few of the toms turned their heads to look at him, smiles on his face as they beckoned him forth. "You want to play, too?" Tumblebrutus panted.

Munkustrap smiled. "I don't think there's anything right now that I'd rather do."

"Good, because you're it," Tumblebrutus said, hitting the tabby's shoulder before he took off, Munkustrap at his heels with a laugh, unable to keep from noticing that Asparagus and Skimbleshanks were still rolling on the ground like kittens, limbs wrapped around each other like tumbleweeds across the tundra.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**A/N:** Ended on a happier note, didn't it? Well, don't worry because like hell that's going to last in part II.

Reviews make me feel tingly and warm.


	2. Welding a Confidence

**Special Thanks To: **the few people who were brave enough to read this fic. Another super special thanks to Kale, who still hates cats, yet tolerates me brainstorming with her and offers invaluable feedback (seriously, google "A Broken Winter" - it's GREAT!). Also throwing a shoutout to Ben, who was one of the first people to read the story, and Taintie because she's my Pretend-Valentine and we totally know how to beat a joke into the ground.

**Pre-Story Note:** Again, should be said that this story is nonlinear. Several pairings have been brought up, which is ace, but more are to come. This chapter has barely any Tumblebrutus, which makes me sad, though the set up is essential for chapter three.

**Disclaimer:** _CATS_ is the byproduct of T.S. Eliot's poetry and Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical genius. All views and opinions expressed in the following fanfiction are the personal views and expressions of the author, and, quite frankly, fiction. Due to its nature, it is recommended that no one read this fanfiction unless they enjoy perversity, darkness, and things that are never discussed even in a B-Rated _Lifetime_ movie. This bastardization will contain as many pairings as possible, hopefully gore, and other nefarious things described in loose symbolism and metaphors. The author thinks it should be noted that faux-fudge tastes great but leads to stomach aches.

* * *

**II – Welding a Confidence**

"Munkustrap?"

Demeter's voice had always been welcome to the tom as he glanced up from where he lay on a pillow, something they drug into the wooden crate they padded to create a den. At one point, the crate contained tea, and it took all of Munkustrap, Alonzo, and Admetus's strength to carry it back, but it was worth it. With picked up trinkets, the pillow, and a blanket, it was private. Warm. Welcoming. But the sight of Demeter was even more welcoming, and readily Munkustrap rose to his feet, padding over to her before arms encircled her waist. But, to his surprise, she turned her face away when he leaned in for a kiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked, brows furrowing as he frowned.

"Mistoffelees."

"Is he all right?"

"Munkus, we're playing with fire keeping him around, quite literally."

The cat sighed before he shook his head. "I'm not shunning him. It's not his fault that he's got Macavity for a dad."

"But everyone's afraid of him. He's getting stronger. It's not safe. It's a matter of time before that blood consumes him."

"Victoria's one of Macavity's as well. Are you suggesting we shun her, too?"

"What? No."

"Why? Because she doesn't have magic?"

"To be honest, yes."

Munkustrap sighed as he let his arms fall to his side then dropped on the pillow once more. "This isn't up for debate, Demeter."

"But you can't deny that blood does have something to do with it."

"You are aware that he's my nephew, right?"

"… Munkus, I didn't mean--"

"And, as much as I don't acknowledge it, Macavity is still my brother."

"But you're not him."

"Neither is Mistoffelees."

"But he's different than you!"

"Why? Because he has a gift of magic? Or because I lack it, rather? Is that why you like me? Because I lack things?"

"Munkus…" The queen lowered her head before she dropped alongside Munkustrap, nuzzling against his shoulder apologetically, paws cradling his face. "Is it about the kittens?"

Munkustrap was silent.

"It's not your fault we can't have more."

"But it is. You know that."

Demeter didn't deny.

Munkustrap sighed as he nuzzled back against the warmth. "I'm happy with what we've got. I couldn't ask for more than Jemima save for getting a proper heir."

"What happens if you don't..?"

"We investigate bloodlines to see who's next if there's any suitor, and if not the torch gets passed to Alonzo. He'd do a good job. Maybe even better than me."

"Don't say that."

But Munkustrap always said that.

* * *

"Ugh," Plato groaned, gritting his teeth as he strained to carry one end of the plastic baby basin filled with lukewarm water and soap. A glare was fixated on Alonzo, who was having just as much difficulty as he was. "_Hey Plato,_" the tom mocked, trying to imitate Alonzo's voice, "_I've got a great idea! Let's go hunting for rabbit the day after a rainstorm in the park! Sure, you've got a date with Victoria tonight, but don't worry!_"

"It's not like you never have bad ideas."

"Not when a date that evening's involved." Alonzo stopped dead in his tracks and fixed Plato the dirtiest glare he could muster.

"… oh please, don't' tell me you're still pissed off about that one time with Cassandra."

"Of course I'm still pissed," Alonzo snorted before resuming their pace again.

"So how far do we have to carry this crap?"

"There."

"Jennyanydots' den?"

"You think she'd honestly care? And she's got a source of running water."

"Good point."

The toms strained the rest of the way with the basin before setting it down. Alonzo made himself seem at home as he rummaged through one of her boxes while Plato pulled his tshirt off. "Hey Alonzo?"

"What?"

"If she's got running water, why'd we carry this full here?"

"… I don't know." And Alonzo chucked a bottle of soap to Plato, the tom barely catching before squeezing a generous amount in the basin. Muddy sneakers were kicked off followed by his jeans and boxers before he balked and, reluctantly, climbed in.

"I hate water… I hate water… I hate baths," Plato whined, ears flattening to his scalp as he sank down.

"Quit your bitchin'," Alonzo proclaimed before he more eagerly hopped in the bin on the other side. Plato would have snapped back were he not drawn to Alonzo's head, his thick headfur trapped ridiculously beneath a plastic grocery bag. The shock passed after only a few seconds, and soon Plato was howling with laughter, getting splashed in the face quite hard. "My headfur's _fine_, idiot. Like I'm screwing this up before tonight."

"Tonight? You've got plans?"

"Should, unless Cassandra's not up for it."

"That's gotta be hard, going out with her."

"Going out might not be the best term for it but…" Alonzo shook his head before using a paw to scoop up a handful of fluffy suds and scrub over his chest. "How's Vicky? With being pregnant and everything?"

"Beautiful," Plato sighed. "More and more beautiful every day."

"That's great."

"No, it's not."

"What? Why not? You want an ugly mate?"

"No. It's not that. You honestly think I can amount to someone that's worth her time?"

"… Plato."

"I love her. More than anything."

"I'm sure she knows that."

"She does but Jesus, being a Dad? I'm not ready for that."

"There are ways out of it, you know…"

Plato shook his head. "Not even bringing that up."

"Why?"

"She's never been so happy. It's like… I don't know. Maybe she thought I'd leave her."

"That's stupid."

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Sorry." Alonzo frowned before he shifted his weight, back to one end of the basin, feet lifting so they rest on the rim to the right of Plato's head, the other cat following suit with a frustrated groan. "You know if you need help ever I've got your back."

"Thanks…"

"I'm serious."

"I know. I know. I just… fuck."

"I kinda admire you for it."

"For knocking her up? Wonderful."

"No. For sticking through it. Being so committed. I don't think I could do it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. There's a lot of temptation."

"Do you love Cass?"

"What? Yes, of course."

"Oh."

"Don't say you didn't think I did."

"No. Just thought maybe you were like me. With love… a soon as I saw Victoria in that other light, I knew. I didn't want any other queen. Never even think of them."

"Never?!"

"Nope."

"You're such a liar."

"Swear to the Everlasting Cat."

"Jesus, you really do love her."

Plato smiled before using two paws to bring up suds, then squeezing his eyes shut as he used his claws to scrub through the mess of cracked mud that dried in his headfur. "Maybe you need someone else besides Cass. Like two mates or three, like Munkustrap."

"Maybe. I kinda want to settle down. Not now, but in the future."

"It's nice."

"Hey Plato?"

"Hm?"

"You'd never hate me for something trivial, right?"

"Something what? Speak English, man."

Alonzo frowned and looked to the side. "You ever think about what it'd be like with a dude?"

Plato laughed hard. "Yeah, it's called whenever Rum Tum Tugger enters the room."

"I'm serious."

"I am too! I mean, I'm totally about the babes but if I wasn't he totally would be fun. Why?"

Alonzo didn't answer.

"… dude, you're not gonna tell me you're gay or something right?"

"Would you hate me if I was?"

"No."

"I'm not. Gay, I mean."

Plato's face softened. "Bi-curious..? Because that's cool. You could call me that I guess with Rum Tum Tugger."

"Bit more defined than that."

"Bi?"

"Yeah. I think."

"Oh. Well, that's cool."

"Not really if that's making me fear commitment."

"I doubt that's why. Love is love."

"Maybe."

"Do you like anyone? Any tom, I mean?"

"Sort of. A few."

"Oh, you dog you. Who?"

Alonzo snorted before splashing the other in the face. "Nosey pervert."

"Oh, come on. You owe me after all I told you about Victoria."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"So?"

Alonzo sighed. "I guess Munkustrap."

"HA! That's rich!"

"Shut up! It's not funny."

"Yes, it is. I mean, _Munk_? No, you wouldn't like his sex-fiend brother, but the straight laced leader."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"Oh. Sorry. Well, anyone else? Like that you have a shot with?"

"Probably but I can't."

"Oh, come on. You just told me your bi, don't tell me you're already going back in the closet."

"It's not that. Believe me, it's not." He shifted his weight then, cupping his paws to spill water over his chest before scrubbing up again. "He's sick."

"… Tumble?"

"He's a good kid."

"… whoa. That… uh… that-"

"Sucks. I know."

"Er…"

"What?"

"You know all those times we made out to score chicks?"

"Yeah?"

"Was that just to score chicks, or?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Alonzo snorted. "You're not my type."

"So you've never thought about it with me? Never?"

"You don't think I'm that desperate, do you?"

Plato was quiet before grinning. "Well, that sucks. I kinda had fun doing that."

Alonzo was about to speak when there was commotion in the den and the heavy aroma of catnip as Admetus staggered in. "Hey guys!" he called jovially as he stripped, climbing unceremoniously between the pair, forcing them to shift their position from their lounged spot. "You know what sucks?" Admetus began. "When you get unwanted company." And as he began to spout off all the reasons why Pouncival was an asshole, Alonzo and Plato couldn't help but laugh.

"What are you boys doing here?" Jennyanydots exclaimed from the doorway.

"Hey Jenny!" Admetus called jovially. "Don't mind us. We're just taking a bath."

And, with a smirk on his face, Plato, of all cats, chimed in, "And by bath, we really mean hot gay sex."

As Jennyanydots turned to flee, the three toms burst out laughing yet again, their voices combined in a sweet harmony to break the harsh reality that was falling upon the Jellicles.

* * *

When Tugger had arrived at the Junkyard that evening, it was clear to Munkustrap that he was worse than usual, that foul would be an understatement to his mood. His doting fans were blown off faster than usual, no hip thrusts or butt bumps to deny them, just a solid word: no. When Tugger first made eye contact with his older sibling, eyes softening just a touch before he snorted and looked away, Munkustrap rose to his feet and pat Demeter on the shoulder. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"Out with Tugger."

"But he just got here."

"I'll be back soon."

"But where are you going?"

Munkustrap remembered how he didn't answer that last question, how he walked up alongside his sibling, and then past, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his trousers. His stride was even and long. For a moment, he'd doubted himself, wondering if Tugger would follow, but soon enough he heard the padding of his brother's feet and, without looking back, he knew Tugger would only be a few strides behind him.

Only when outside of the Junkyard's sanctuary did Munkustrap slow his pace as Tugger sped up, both falling in stride next to each other. They walked in silence, not even exchanging a look when the fish stand on the dock came into orbit. Tugger had distracted the fishmonger who tried to swat him away as Munkustrap grabbed the bass in his teeth and ran.

Munkustrap divided the fish up on the end of the empty dock, the duo claiming it for a second night. Munkustrap told Tugger that he thought he was being ridiculous the last time when he wanted to, and eventually did, mark territory, but now that they were alone and the sun was setting, casting hues of orange, purple, and pink sherbert across the water, he decided it was a good idea and that Tugger was right.

"You're not eating," Munkustrap commented.

"I'm eating."

"What?" A pointed question as Munkustrap looked at the fish, some scales pushed aside but otherwise untouched, while Munkustrap's had a growing pile of bones.

"I guess I'm not hungry."

"I see."

"Yeah."

"Tugger?"

"Hn?"

"The queens'll talk if you keep this up, you know."

"They're already talking."

"Huh?"

"Bombalurina started it. Started asking why I wasn't paying her any attention. Them any attention really. That I haven't been the same for awhile."

"That's not nice."

"I'm not pissed at her. She has a right to feel whatever she wants, say whatever she wants. The Everlasting Cat knows I do."

"But your reputation--"

"I'm really not liking that word anymore."

"This is… it's not even like you. When was the last time you... er… never mind."

"Fucked?" Tugger looked across the water. "You know damn well when."

"… Mistoffelees?"

"… yeah."

"You haven't since Mistoffelees?" Munkustrap arched an eyebrow, and Tugger scratched just behind his collar.

"No."

"Jesus."

"I just don't want to, all right? You don't need to make such a big deal out of it. I don't think with my dick all the time."

"Could have fooled me."

_"Munk!"_

"Sorry, sorry. Chill." Munkustrap sighed, eyes settling across the water. "I haven't been able to talk with him much. How's he doing?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on."

"No. I really don't know. He won't speak with me."

"… you're kidding?"

"I wish."

"Silent treatment? Mistoffelees? He never does that."

"Well, clearly he does, or I'm the lucky exception." Tugger lowered his head, thick mane hiding his eyes. "He hates me."

"Tug… you know he doesn't."

"I didn't want to do it, you know."

"… yeah. I know."

"And he's an idiot. He was practically the Junkyard bicycle before I got through to him. Who knows who's given him a ride."

"Before you got through to him?"

"He… might have had some reservations."

"About you?"

"… yeah."

Munkustrap sighed, arms folding atop his lap. "I'm sure he wouldn't do anything disrespectul. He's innocent enough, probably completely lost without you." Tugger laughed; Munkustrap frowned. "What? Isn't he?"

"Munk, you know how many toms he's had before me?"

"I don't know."

"You know everything, Munk. Don't give me that bullocks."

"Not everything. I didn't know about you two."

"You never suspected?"

"No."

"That's because you're my brother."

"Probably."

"You really never heard about him with the other toms? Honestly?"

Munkustrap unfolded his arms, paws pressing to the deck behind him as he sighed. "Maybe something."

"Who?"

"I had to break up a fight before. Some of the toms were teasing Tumblebrutus a bit, Mistoffelees' name came up, I think Admetus called him a fag, and Pouncival just about jumped him. I guess what they say's true about brotherly protection and instinct, huh?" Munkustrap tried to laugh, but the joke fell sour. Tugger wasn't laughing, nor smiling. Instead, there was somewhat of a sick look on his face, a greenish tint to his complexion.

"... I'm guessing Mitoffelees didn't mention Tumblebrutus's name to you. Look, I could be wrong about that."

"You're not. He probably did. No. I'm certain he did. They spent a lot of time together; Brutus worshipped him almost as much as he idolized me. Didn't this come up before?"

"Yeah. When we tried to set up that intervention for Tumblebrutus."

"I forgot about that."

"It doesn't make sense, though. If they did, I mean. I thought he'd never had sex before all those guys that worked for Macavity raped him."

"It's still sex if you top." Tugger snorted as Munkustrap wrinkled his nose. "Don't knock it until you try it."

"You're the curious one, not me."

"Do you think he's thinking about me?"

"I don't know." Munkustrap used a claw to tug a flake of fish up where he chewed slowly, contemplating his words. This sort of situation had to be handled delicately, he knew. Despite Tugger's independence, it was more and more apparent how needy his little brother actually was. "It's natural to have other relationships. I mean, think about you and all those queens. I mean, you couldn't even--"

"Count them."

"Well, I wasn't going to put it like that."

"No. I mean Misto. He couldn't count how many. There were six… no, make that seven… in the tribe alone."

"_Seven_?!"

"Yeah…"

"Seven _Jellicles_?"

"Yeah."

"Seven _Jellicle Cats_?"

"I'm going to punch you if you say that one more time."

"I—but—he's so young."

"Seventeen." Tugger shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He's probably out getting his rocks off with some punk ass tom right now."

"Tugger, you don't blame me for this, do you?" Munkustrap asked more suddenly. "You know I was suggesting what I thought was best for him, right?"

"Hey Munk?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, get swordfish. I hate bass."

* * *

It started at the Jellicle ball, the Plato and Victoria relationship, that is. Everyone had been there when they started it, scattering amidst their dance. Old Deuteronomy sat on his throne watching, and Munkustrap stood to the side to observe. The ball was sacred. Magical. Someone had to oversee it.

Munkustrap hadn't thought it'd be him as he helped lead Old Deuteronomy up the steps, but when he turned around to see the cats in broad orbit, he knew he'd be the witness.

That ball was truly remarkable.

Some of the cats were always uncomfortable, part of the sacredness being its purity, an expected nudity. The elders were used to it by then, but he worried for the younger toms. Little George huddled in a corner, as did some of the others. Munkustrap wasn't entirely sure why so many of the tomes were balking that year until he saw his brother, mane fully fluffed, strut across the junkyard, the first into the open, moving beneath the direct beam of the streetlamp before standing with his thumbs hooked in his belt, refusing to leave that accessory or his leather gloves behind. And, when he looked back to the group, he faced the line of young toms, many teenagers going through that awkward and uncomfortable stage. Even Plato and Alonzo seemed to take longer than usually when changing, Alonzo offering a few bitter words about Tugger not being that impressive, while Plato relentlessly defended him, giving Pouncival a hard shove on the way out.

"No way," Victor protested, and the other toms shifted uncomfortably.

"It's not so bad," Munkustrap reasoned.

Still, they lingered, self-consciousness hanging like smog in the air.

"Who are you trying to impress?" Munkustrap asked, approaching it at a different angle.

"No one," Mistoffelees cut in sharply, too quickly, stripping to thin boxer-briefs where he hesitated for another moment. _Clearly someone_, Munkustrap, wisely, didn't voice.

"You know, when I was your age, Tugger, Macavity, and me would fight over who'd be out there first."

"Why?" Pouncival asked, eyebrow arching suspiciously.

"Better pickings for mates. The kittens liked confidence. Worked for us like a charm."

"God, we're doomed," Tumblebrutus lamented, head burying in his paws, Victor rubbing his shoulder sympathetically, looking no more encouraged.

"There was also another reason." Munkustrap looked both ways before gesturing the toms closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't tell your parents I said this, but the sooner we were out there, the sooner we could see some naked chicks. It was actually there that--" Munkustrap cut his speech short with the mad ruffling of clothes, offering a smile as the toms just about tore everything off, Victor jumping on one foot as he tried not to slow down while kicking his boxers off, Pounvical, very deliberately, tripping George so he could scoot out in the open first.

"You were always the last one out when you were a kit," Asparagus commented as he walked up alongside Munkustrap.

"They don't need to know that," he replied with a smile.

And they didn't.

That year he watched as Bombalurina strode by Plato, the cat lifting his leg as if to mount before he turned his head. Beneath the moonlight, a soft glow illuminated Victoria's fur. That was it for him. The transformation began.

Munkustrap watched as Plato approached, as he lifted her, ran paws gently over her form, but in the midst of the dance he noticed they didn't mate. Later, when asking Plato about it, the tom shyly said he wanted it to be romantic. Special.

It was an admirable belief, one Munkustrap wished he could have had. Then again, his first time was something.

Munkustrap's first mate was Jennyanydots, an arrangement set up by his father though at the time he didn't know it. The only thing he knew was that Macavity and Tugger were seething with envy, even though Tugger was too young to be allowed to mate and resigned to self-pleasure. Munkustrap joined the others in dance then made to move for the corner, something he'd do every time, before the queen approached him: full figured, beautiful, wanting. Wanting him. And, amidst the live show, he let her straddle his groin, their moans joining the symphony around them, something melodious, magical. That was when Macavity and Demeter were expected to be mates for life. That was two years before Macavity was banished.

That was a long time ago.

His second mate was Demeter, one stemming from what he thought was love. Strangely enough, he wasn't entirely sure how they got together. He picked up the pieces after Macavity was exiled; Macavity had wanted to bring Demeter with him and she almost did before Grizzabella bid her to stay. Ironic, really, but Demeter didn't know it, nor would predict it as she turned her back, and Munkustrap was there. They'd cuddle together, and she realized she didn't cry. They danced together and laughed when Munkustrap tripped and wiped out in mud, taking care to hug Demeter afterward despite her squeals. They'd accompany each other when hunting for mice; she was better than him by a long shot but sometimes would downplay her talent for his ego even though Munkustrap said that was unnecessary. Munkustrap would walk Demeter to her human home, and vice versa. It came as no surprise to him when they became an item, and he really wasn't sure when they considered each other mates. He knew at the ball, the first one without Macavity, she'd made a b-line for him and refused to leave his side. As the mating dance came, both looked at each other shyly.

"We don't have to," Munkustrap said.

"I know. I'm not pushing," Demeter replied.

"Me either."

And at first they didn't. They were proper, dignified; both cats were private, though Demeter was skittish were Munkustrap was bold. But there was something that changed. Maybe the atmosphere, maybe the lingering scent of catnip in the air that was probably in thanks due to Admetus, he wasn't certain, but they looked at each other, kissed, and it was over. They rolled across the ground, moaning and giggling playfully, throwing out a few inappropriate jokes in the middle, crashing into a displeased Jellylorum and Asparagus before cracking up again, finally unable to do anything except sit and laugh, completely wild, consequentially ruining the mating dance and ritual.

They thought it was hilarious.

Old Deuteronomy and Gus, that year's watcher, weren't impressed. Nor were they when Munkustrap and Demeter begged to become official, to have her be his second mate and use a husband and wife title just like Old Deuteronomy had done many times before, with the simple explanation: _Demeter's pregnant_.

Old Deuteronomy made his exception and granted the wish begrudgingly to his eldest son, his responsible one, under the pretense that they two loved each other, and that they always would. Later, he said, it was in part due to wanting grandchildren, and he'd eagerly awaited through her long and painful labor. Old Deuteronomy was again disappointed when three kittens came out, stillborn, Munkustrap crumbling, until Jellylorum said, "I think there's one more," and after Demeter screamed and there was the tiniest of a mew, everyone became silent.

"Oh God," Munkustrap whispered, tears streaking along the lines of his face as he crawled next to Demeter, an arm around his wife's back, the other paw gently stroking the kitten's head before helping dry her.

That was the biggest moment of happiness in Munkustrap's life as they welcomed tiny, little Jemima into their tribe.

Cassandra was a later arrival to the Jellicles, and became Munkustrap's third mate. He couldn't deny that she caught his eye from the moment she edged onto Jellicle territory and he'd vouched for her alongside Alonzo, who then was a bit quieter. Old Deuteronomy was the one who suggested the arrangement, one Demeter became furious with Munkustrap for as the reason was given: five years had passed, and Munkustrap was able to produce only one kitten, his beloved Jemima, but lacked a son. Cassandra ran her paws across Munkustrap's hips and whispered that she wanted his kittens, that she'd give them to him, and the bargain was made, their arrangement was settled. But years passed, Jemima aged, and still there was no son, let alone other kittens, and Cassandra's eyes were blatantly wandering to other toms as Munkustrap would return to Demeter's bedside time after time.

Munkustrap didn't blame her and began to question why. There were rumors of infertility in the bloodlines, Old Deuteronomy only having three kits, all sons, despite his many wives. Munkustrap hadn't thought anything of it then, but now…

* * *

Tugger found Mistoffelees in one of the back alleys just behind a garbage bin. Tugger didn't need to see him to know what was happening, the sounds of grunting and moaning were enough. After contemplating turning back, he went ahead.

Mistoffelees' head was against the wall, paw atop another cat's headfur, fingers bunching. It took a few hip thrusts before he exhaled. Tugger clenched a fist as he walked into the open, then stopped in his tracks as Electra climbed to her feet. She tried to kiss him, but Mistoffelees turned his head away. "I'm not--"

"I know. But I thought--"

"You wanted to learn, I said I'd teach you. That's all it is."

"I don't believe you," Tugger said, unable to keep quiet.

Mistoffelees lifted his head sharply but didn't reply. Electra voiced panic for him instead.

"R-Rum Tum Tu—"

"Beat it," Tugger growled, then waited for her to leave the alley. Only then did he lash out once more. "You and… and a _girl_?! A frickin' kitten?! You don't even like them!!!"

Mistoffelees shrugged. "From above, she looks like a guy."

"Don't you have any shame?! You're just a fucking hole!"

"Yes. That's exactly what I am." Tugger choked as Mistoffelees gazed ahead with nothing but self-loathing. "The Jellicle bicycle, am I right? By the way, I hope you get swordfish the next time."

"You… when me and Munk were… how'd you--"

"I was there. I had a bad dream and wanted to make sure it wasn't prophetic."

"What dream?"

"Why should I tell you? I'm just some hole."

"Oh, come on. You had to have heard me defend you."

"Actually no. I didn't. I left when you told Munkustrap what I told you in private about Tumblebrutus."

"… why are you doing this, Misto? This… stuff with the other cats. The sex stuff."

"I want to."

"Misto…"

"It's the only way anyone'll touch me anymore."

"What?"

"Since Macavity came… he ruined everything."

"I don't understand-"

"Even Skimble hesitates to pat me on the back. _Skimble_. Do you know what it's like to be untouchable? Of course not, you never would. So tell me, how many holes have you fucked since you were free from mine?"

"None."

"What?"

"None. I've done none."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Prove it."

"I can't."

"See? I told you that's--"

"No." Tugger grit his teeth and looked to the ground. "I mean I _can't_." A gesture with his paws was given, a shallow motion downward. Mistoffelees looked perplexed before his eyes widened.

"… oh God, you—what happened? Your human family didn't neu--"

"What?! No! Fuck you!"

"Sorry for worrying."

"I didn't mean to yell… I'm sorry. I… didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you know that."

"Do you care about me still?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"Then take me back. Please. Please, I need you."

"I can't."

"Why not?!"

"We went over this before."

"No one needs to know. It can just be us."

"I can't do that. You _know_ I can't do that."

"Tugger!"

"I'm sorry. I really am." Tugger turned his back, swallowed. "… I'm doing this for you."

"But it's hurting me!"

"And it'll only hurt you more. Munk said--"

"Fuck Munkustrap!" Mistoffelees scooted around Tugger to face him, paws pressed on the chest of his jacket. "Let a pollicle fuck him for all I care! I don't care about Munkustrap! He's not the one fucking me!"

"You know just as well as I do that he has better judgment than anyone."

Tears trickled down a white face. "I know. It's just… it's not fair. I need you. It's not fair."

"… do what you need to be happy. Screw around, go out, get high, whatever so long as you're happy. Just… be careful."

"Tugger? Tugger? Don't leave!" Mistoffelees begged to Tugger's back and, though the older cat faltered in his step, he did exactly that.

* * *

**A/N:** I want to point out that I thought chapter two would be considerably more depressing than it was, but got distracted by the awesome bromance Alonzo and Plato have and wanted to really establish some of the deal with Munkustrap and his mates. In doing that, I ended up with a super long chapter and decided to save the super depressing stuff to begin in chapter three.

Reviews make me squee. Like it? Let me know. Confused? I'll try to clarify things.

Should we do a pairing count for this story? I'm morbidly curious.


	3. Nostalgia Kindling

**III – Nostalgia Kindling**

* * *

Special Thanks to the normal crew, of course.

* * *

Munkustrap thought it was odd how up until the point where his brother was devastated by his break up he'd thought they weren't close despite knowing everything about his sibling. But now, as his brother wallowed in a sort of self-pity, Munkustrap was certain that he didn't know Tugger at all, and in learning about him aided their closeness. Maybe that was a missing link when they were growing up. Munkustrap couldn't remember much of their childhood. Munkustrap was the eldest of the three brothers, and to a different mother than Macavity and Tugger. Macavity and Tugger shared the same dam, but were from different litters and, though there wasn't a considerable difference in age between Munkustrap and Macavity, Old Deuteronomy's mates going into labor around the same time, there was a bit of one between them and Tugger.

As Macavity grew bad, Old Deuteronomy expressed his fear that Tugger would follow Macavity's footsteps. This concern was first brought up when Macavity started to come home with bloodied arms sticky with fur but, upon close inspection it became clear that Macavity wasn't the one that was injured. The only one of the brothers gifted with magic, Old Deuteronomy tried to rein him in, guiding him, but it seemed to be a lost cause the older Macavity became.

But, fortunately, the bad didn't seem to run through the very small bloodline as Tugger, bold as he was, never seemed one for fighting, instead preening upon his looks, lavishing with attention from his human home, one with little girls. Tugger never explicitly said so, but Munkustrap was certain his brother was afraid of Macavity. There were little giveaways, how Tugger would conveniently disappear any time Macavity showed up, or, if in a position where he had to stay, latching to Old Deuteronomy's, or even sometimes Munkustrap's, side. Tugger was always a physical cat, but those touches he instigated weren't for pleasure or sensation but support. Comfort.

Come to think of it, there were some good times Munkustrap had with Tugger when he was little. Munkustrap couldn't help his affection for all of the cats, Old Deuteronomy's persona really coming off on him, more so than the other two sons. He loved to wrestle around with Tugger, scruffing up his unruly mane, and sometimes allowing himself to get pounced. Those tackles were put to an end when Tugger reached his teenage years and Munkustrap was stunned to discover that Tugger was taller than him and had a pretty strong ram which once knocked the wind out of Munkustrap. Old Deuteronomy felt it was time to change their wrestling into lessons, and suggested that Munkustrap continue to develop his art of storytelling to capture his brother's attention, and eventually the tribe. Munkustrap went a step beyond that, learning everything he could from Socrates, one of the elders in the tribe and Plato's father, and passed on what he could. He taught Tugger tricks for his home family, such as lifting a paw at the door when he'd want to go out, though he never imagined that Tugger would take such advantage of it later on in life. Sometimes, when Tugger was truly impossible, he sorely regretted teaching him anything.

"Munkus?" Demeter's voice penetrated Munkustrap's thoughts and he lifted his head abruptly, disoriented at first before realizing he was on top of the car hood and must have fallen asleep when on watch. He rose to his feet abruptly, perturbed by that realization, though Demeter didn't seem to be distraught.

"Hey. Everything all right?" Munkustrap questioned, eyes scanning the junkyard, calculating. Everything seemed to be in order, at least.

"All things considered."

_All things considered? _"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." The queen climbed up alongside Munkustrap, dropping to sit on the hood, the tom following suit, an arm moving around her back. Demeter didn't lean into his touch.

Munkustrap's eyes softened. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Was just wondering if you were going to your human family tonight."

"Was planning on it." Munkustrap paused as Demeter stiffened. "… should I not?"

"Just was curious, that's all." Demeter stalled, and Munkustrap somewhat doubted his mate.

"I can stay if you want me to."

"Might be nice. You've been busy a lot recently."

"I have?"

"I feel like I never get any time with you anymore outside of tribe activities. You spend all your time with your brother."

"So you're saying that I can't spend time with family pretty much."

Demeter turned her head, eyes narrowing. "I wasn't aware that I'm not family anymore. Is Jemima not your daughter anymore either?"

Munkustrap sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I didn't."

"What the hell's going on with Tugger? It's got _you_ bent out of shape."

"I'm fine. He's… Tugger's having a really hard time right now. I need to be there for him. No one else would be."

"Bombalurina would be."

"I think a pity fuck is the last thing he wants."

"It'd be nice if you respected my best friend a little more."

"If she didn't spread her legs for every tom that walked her direction, maybe I would have more respect for her."

"She doesn't do that."

"Oh really? Pretty sure she's a cougar."

"You know, you really can be an arse sometimes."

"I'm not the one going after teenage boys."

"Bombalurina's upset. She thinks she did something. He won't talk to her at all."

"Is that what this is about? She has nothing to do with Tugger being upset. Tell her that."

"Why don't you tell her that?"

"I could."

_"Munkus!"_

"_What_?"

"I hate it when you try to avoid the subject."

"Demeter, I--"

"No, you listen to me and answer me. What's wrong with the Rum Tum Tugger?" Munkustrap removed his arm from Demeter's back to cross it in front of his stomach, shifting his weight. "Munkus, don't you try to get out of this, I swear to the Everlasting Cat."

"It's no one's business but his."

"What could be so wrong?"

"A _lot._ If it were something I could talk about, I would. You'd be the first cat I'd tell."

"But this is ridiculous! It's distracting you so much it's like no one exists but him!"

"Bollocks! I have nothing to do with the equation! This is personal to my brother, and I'm not breaching his trust!" Munkustrap snapped, rising to his feet sharply. "If Bombalurina's that upset, tell her to fucking talk to him rather than through you to me. I'm out."

"God, you're impossible."

"Because he trusted me enough to confide in me? I told you, I'm not breaching that trust. I'm not betraying him."

"Well, when can I even begin to trust you?"

"What?" Munkustrap folded his arms over his chest.

"You guys could be going to those clubs. Bustopher Jones would let you in."

"Oh for the love of--he's _not_ trying to pick up queens." Demeter snorted, and Munkustrap added with a groan, "Trust me on that one. Just… trust me."

"And you?"

"And me what?"

"You said he wasn't trying to pick up queens. Are you?"

"Please tell me that was a poor attempt at humor."

"You have three mates. Were you planning on picking up a fourth?"

"Demeter…" He sighed before bending over and taking her paws in his, bringing them to his lips gently, but his mate didn't seem pacified by the gesture like she normally would be. "Demeter, I love you with all my heart. You know that… please say you know that."

"Sometimes I wonder if I do."

"Demeter…" Munkustrap looked at her paws, ones that were large for her petite size. He had wondered if Jemima would grow as tall as her but doubted it. Actually, he'd wondered how all of the cats would grow, and some of the assumptions he had that were wrong. He'd thought that Pouncival would be tall and refined, but instead he was awkwardly stocky and short. He'd thought Electra would be a little smaller. He'd thought Plato would be only average size.

It was troubling, in hindsight, how many things he thought were actually wrong.

* * *

Munkustrap had thought the interrogations about Tugger would stop after he gave his mate a refined no but, for the next week any time he'd return to the Junkyard after a night at home, he'd be swarmed by the queens and kittens. Once, it brought out an angry frustration scream, "NO!" They didn't ask him about it again until two weeks had passed and Tugger _still_ denied them, not bothering to flirt, not in the mood for hip gyration. And, though he wouldn't admit it, as obnoxious as it was, Munkustrap missed that.

"Have you talked with him at all recently?" Munkustrap asked Tugger from where he sat at the edge of the dock. They'd chased off a few stray cats hanging around the premise, and Tugger took it upon himself to mark territory along the entire perimeter rather than just the one side. Munkustrap glanced over his shoulder to watch his sibling.

"Sort of."

"Well, that's good."

"I guess." Tugger re-zipped his fly before kneeling along the dock, washing his paws in the saltwater. "He's getting worse."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. You know, he went to Electra for company. _Electra_."

"… well she _is_ the butchest kitten in the tribe if he's going to go back in the closet."

"You suck. You suck so much."

"No, I think that's your department, not mine."

"Fuck you." Tugger exhaled. "It's masochism. He's latching onto whatever he can get since he can't have me."

"Codependency's never a good thing."

"Or he's trying to hurt me."

"Revenge isn't a good thing either."

"Ugh, Munk, seriously."

"I was trying to cheer you up."

"By saying that?"

"I didn't want to lie."

Tugger shook his paws to rid the excess water as he sat back, glancing to the side where a swordfish sat between them, nose wrinkling.

"What's wrong with it?" Munkustrap asked warily.

"I'd rather have bass."

"The last time you told me you hated bass and wanted swordfish."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind."

"Ugh, you're obnoxious. Do you want me to get something else for you?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"You going to eat at all?"

"Probably not."

"You should."

"Not hungry."

"Bollocks."

Tugger grunted before he used a claw to spear a segment of fish, chewing it with his mouth open. "Happy?" Munkustrap shrugged.

"I would be if you closed your mouth. Your breath smells rancid."

"Your face is rancid." Tugger shifted his weight before lying back, legs still dangling over the edge as he looked to the sky. "I miss him."

Munkustrap shifted onto his side as he lay down, watching his sibling's profile. There was a shallow rise and fall of his chest. A melancholic face. "It'll take some adjustment. How long were you two together?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on."

"I really don't know. It kind of blends together, the change from friends to more." Lines creased his brow. "You're absolutely certain that this is the best for him?" Tugger asked, turning his head. Hazel eyes pleaded, and Munkustrap had to break contact for a moment to recollect himself.

"Tugger, I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

"It's not just because he's a tom, right?"

"What? No!" Munkustrap paused, then continued. "That's irrelevant. Who you date or don't, I mean. If he wasn't Macavity's…"

"You know that really doesn't bother me, right?" Tugger shifted and looked to the sky again. "I mean, I don't see the problem with it. Two cats in love. And bad genetic luck."

"If you grew up with him as your nephew, hypothetically, helped raise him since an infant, would you feel the same?"

"That's unfair, Munk."

"I'm serious. Would you have?"

"I've known him for years. We've both known him for years."

"But not as family."

"Damn it, Munk! Why the hell do you have to ask me shit like this? You know I hate it."

"I'm asking you it because that's exactly what the cats will be asking you if they found out."

"If I can have him, I wouldn't care about that."

"And that's what they'd ask _him_ too. Then, tie in his relation, his magic, they'd be accusing him of brainwashing you."

"That's shit! Complete and utter shit! I pursued _him_, not the other way around."

"They'll call you a pedo."

"Go to hell."

"I'm serious."

Tugger shifted his weight, chewing his lower lip. "Hey Munk?"

"Hn?"

"You don't think I'm one… do you?"

"… no. I don't."

"You hesitated."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"… it's not important."

"So you do think I'm one."

"Well… you do shake your arse in the kittens' faces."

"Oh, come on. You don't think I actually enjoy that, do you? … okay, bad example. But that's not supposed to get me off. I think it's funny as hell."

"Right."

"What? I do! And I gotta teach the younguns how to pick up chicks. Plato's my prodigy; he's so becoming the master of love."

"I thought that was Alonzo."

"Nah, he's a prick. Totally takes after you." A grin came to his face, but Munkustrap suspected it was forced. "Plato. Plato's the prodigy master of love for certain. … or was until he got with Victoria."

"Uh huh."

"I kinda think Pouncival's a lost cause."

"You're not the only one."

"I know."

"Kind of amazing he actually got some."

"He went after Bomba. Not like that's a challenge."

"Admetus?"

"Hm?"

"What about him?"

"I think he enjoys himself a bit too much. Guy's frickin' hysterical."

"That's not what I meant."

"Huh?"

"You need company. Plato's taken, you think Alonzo's a prick, so what about Admetus?"

"You mean to—he's not my type. … and I'm not gay."

"Okay."

"I'm not! I'm just… curious is all."

"I never asked if you were."

"Yeah, well you were thinking it."

"Tug?"

"What?"

"I meant it when I said I didn't care about who you date. I mean male or female. You're still my brother."

"You mean you didn't care when you found out?"

"Considering the circumstances. I was more shocked than anything. Kind of wondered why you didn't tell me before."

"You'd have thought I was bullshitting you."

"I know. And I'm not bullshitting you when I say I support you no matter what."

"Yeah… I know."

"Okay. Good."

Tugger turned on his back once more, looking to the sky. "I considered it."

"Hm?"

"Admetus."

A smile played on Munkustrap's lips. "He's not so bad. Little stoned."

"I couldn't do it. I don't want to be with someone when I'm thinking about someone else."

"Is that why you've been turning the queens down?"

"I don't know why I've been turning them down."

"Tug?"

"What?"

"It's gonna be okay. Somehow."

"Munk?"

"What?"

"You know it's not."

Munkustrap sighed as he sat upright and gazed across the water. "Yeah. I know."

* * *

"Why so low, Brutus?" Pouncival asked, ball beneath his foot as he caught his breath from an impromptu game of soccer. His younger brother had dropped to the ground before the start of the game, stating that he was content to watch from the crest of a small hill. Pouncival didn't push but when he noticed his brother's stature, knees pulled to his chest, arms encircling the calves, face buried against the caps, he worried. His brother lifted his head, and Pouncival felt more reason to be concerned. Tumblebrutus's eyes were moist although the fur on his cheeks was dry and he offered a smile.

"It's nothing. Don't let me keep you from your game. You were kicking serious arse, Pounce."

"Come on, I'm against Admetus. Not like I'm missing much. And like hell it's nothing."

"Tumble, are you okay?" Etcetera's voice was always loud, even when she wasn't yelling. She didn't wait for an answer as she picked up a jog to join them. Now, Etcetera was slightly taller than Pouncival, more noticeable standing next to him; the shorts she kept from last year exposed more thigh. Tumblebrutus noticed how subtly Pouncival glanced down at Etcetera's legs before looking back at her face nonchalantly; it was admirable, really, how his brother could adapt to each queen or kitten he encountered, and a mystery as to why his brother was still single.

"I'm fine, Etcetera," Tumblebrutus answered. "Just a little homesick."

"But you are home." Pouncival blinked, and Etcetera smacked the back of his head lightly before gesturing to her neck. "What? Do I have a hickey or something?"

"Idiot! I was miming a collar."

"But you don't have one."

"No, but Tumble does."

"Yeah, well why'd he—oh." Pouncival frowned further. Homesick for a human family. That was something he couldn't relate to, something he couldn't be sympathetic toward. His encounters with humans weren't anything special. "… sorry." He looked to Etcetera before abandoning the ball to sit next to Tumblebrutus, legs spread before him, one arm over his brother's back. Etcetera dropped to the other side of Pouncival.

"You really must miss them," she commented. Like Pouncival, she'd always been a stray but that's where they differed. She longed for a loving family, one to dote attention on her, provide her food, shelter; Pouncival could care less. But that didn't matter, she still wanted one, she thought it'd be nice. And, judging by the way Tumblebrutus swallowed, she was sure her assumption was right.

"They're good people," he whispered. "I wanna go back. They probably wondered where I went. They probably worry about me."

Pouncival shifted uncomfortably before shaking his head. It'd been a meeting, more like a council and vote, for what to do with Tumblebrutus that night Mungojerrie carried him home. And, after some debate, the decision was made to keep the tom at the junkyard. Sending him home would send him to the vet, and Tumblebrutus was too naïve to realize that many who went to the vet never came back. "You're too sick," Pouncival tried to explain.

"But they could take me to the vet. Maybe he's got medicine we don't have."

Pouncival struggled to continue. "You honestly think that you'll be okay after a trip to the vet? Brutus, some things… things like these… it's too dangerous."

"I felt better when I went to the vet after I got the flu. You remember that."

"Yeah, but Brutus--"

"So I don't see why I can't go home, see them, get some R&R, some antibiotics, and be back on my feet."

Pouncival ground his teeth before moving his arm from his brother's back. He'd kill him, but if it'd get him to lay off the guilt trip it'd ease the pain of his own guilty heart. "Brutus, trust me, this is more serious than getting shots and a thermometer shoved up your butt."

"They put a thermometer up your butt?" Etcetera asked, and Tumblebrutus's cheeks flushed scarlet.

"Pounce, you promised you wouldn't say anything!" he hissed.

"Ewwwwwwwww~!" Etcetera squealed, nose wrinkling up, voice carrying across the junkyard.

"Are you guys gonna come back to play or what? Alonzo, Plato, and Jemima are trying to claim themselves the victors saying you forfeited." Admetus asked alongside Electra as the duo came up the hill.

Etcetera didn't answer Admetus but rather instead flung herself at Electra, nearly knocking the older kitten over. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwwww~ Human vets put a thermometer up Tumble's butt!"

"Sh-shut up!" Tumblebrutus squealed, trying to press himself into the grass.

"Are you serious? … ow," Electra shuddered, though Admetus choked, then cracked up.

"Oh my God, are you ser--ahahahaaha, YO! ALONZO! PLATO! COME OVER HERE! GUESS WHAT?!"

"Don't you dare, Admetus!" Tumblebrutus threatened, but his protests were in vain. A dirty glare was fixed on Pouncival. "You suck at keeping promises."

"Oh, come on, I didn't think it was a big deal," Pouncival snorted, words muted by Plato and Alonzo's wild howls, clearly having heard the news. By that point, Tumblebrutus had lifted his paws up and pressed them to his ears.

"It's not funny! The vets haven't gotten another way to do it yet! All house cats have to!"

"What's all the fuss about?" Jemima's tender voice rang like bells from where she approached alongside Victoria. Tumblebrutus's eyes shot wide open, terror coming to his face. His admiration for Jemima wasn't exactly a secret. Subdued at times, more so since becoming ill, since recovering from his body's detox to the nip, but there was no question that he lived to impress her. To make her happy. Or try at least. Kissing her had been just a start, something he hadn't been able to continue after Munkustrap caught them, but it was something he dreamed about, something where he'd sometimes wake up messy.

"Hey ladies!" Admetus grinned. "Tumblebrutus was just telling us how when he goes to the vets they stick a-AHHHH!" The stray scrambled backward suddenly as Tumblebrutus was on his feet, springing in the air, Pouncival barely fast enough to intercept as he knocked Tumblebrutus to the ground.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Tumblebrutus struggled, fists formed, wriggling hard in an attempt to break free.

"Brutus, calm the fuck down!" Pouncival spluttered.

"YOU GUYS ARE SUCH ASSHOLES! Let me go!"

"Brutus, do you want to risk bloodying him up and getting him sick?!"

Tumblebrutus froze, then his body went limp. "I wanna go home."

Pouncival shifted unsurely as he rose to his feet, pulling Tumblebrutus up with him. "All right… come on, kid. Let's go home. Maybe Mom can make us something special to eat."

"No. No, I mean home. My other home."

Pouncival shook his head. "Brutus, you can't do that."

"But I want to go home…"

"Maybe we can get you something new to wear. Something fun."

"I don't want that. I want to go home… why can't I go?"

Pouncival didn't answer, eyes closing before he looked at their collected group of friends, now fairly silent. "Hey guys, I'm going to just go on a little walk with Brutus. We'll catch up with you guys later?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Is there anything we can do?" Alonzo said, a tone more serious than he'd previously used. There little group seemed terse, a joke taken too far, teases that weren't appropriate.

"Maybe make some plans for dinner. Something fun. You'd like that, right Brutus?"

"I want to go home," Tumblebrutus insisted, a wet sheen over his eyes from holding back tears.

"…is Tumble going to be okay?" Jemima asked sweetly, gently and concerned as Pouncival led Tumblebrutus by the paw, his younger brother at first balking before submitting.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's cool," Pouncival murmured. "He's just a little homesick, so we're gonna go for a walk, and see where Mom is, and we'll be back."

"I mean my other home," Tumblebrutus whimpered, though he conceded to being pulled.

Plato scooted toward Victoria then, a more tender expression on his face as he slid alongside her, an arm around her back, a paw lightly resting on her stomach. "Hey babe. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Plato." A kind smile as she lifted her head, lips pressing against his gently. "I'm worried about him."

"Yeah… me too. But there's not much we can do."

"I know…"

The air still felt too tense, and Plato cleared his throat before attempting a joke. "Your human family keeps you too far away from me!" Plato lamented, nuzzling her head, Victoria giggling awkwardly in response.

"God, you guys are sappy," Alonzo murmured, smirking a little though he was mildly distracted as he watched the smaller dots of the brothers, now seeming to have stopped in debate.

"Don't be jealous just because I have the most beautiful girlfriend on the planet," Plato shot back, squeezing her closer, then paused as if lost in thought, staring ahead slightly. The change in demeanor was too quick, too startling, something that distracted the group from their awkward encounter before. It was too meditated.

"Is he thinking of his name?" Electra wondered aloud, but Plato's response nullified that.

"Hey Vicky, Jemima, you two have human homes, right?"

"Yeah." A unanimous, albeit wary, reply. And Plato, ever so seriously, looked them dead in the eye.

"Do vets really stick thermometers up your butt?"

* * *

"Hey," Bombalurina called. Tugger looked at her before turning his head away.

"Not interested."

"I wasn't coming for that."

"You always come for that."

"I'm worried about you."

"Ha."

"No. I'm serious."

Tugger rolled his eyes as he continued down the alley, terse as Bombalurina's footsteps came up, jerking his arm as she touched him.

"I thought we were friends," Bombalurina stated.

"We are."

"You've been such a dick."

"I don't feel like _it_."

"You haven't felt like _it_ for weeks."

"It happens."

"You haven't since Macavity showed up."

"It's sad that you remember dates."

"Tugger, that night you changed. Ever since you had that argument with Misoffelees."

Nothing.

"You guys were practically best friends. I don't know if you could really call it that. Now you don't even talk. Electra said you walked in on her with him. She said she thought you'd tear her to shreds."

Tugger sighed and faced her. "I wasn't pissed at her. I was pissed at Mistoffelees for using her."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Was there another reason?"

Tugger frowned, thumbs hooking in his belt. "I guess."

"Is it the one I'm thinking of?" Tugger didn't answer. "So it was."

"… yeah. No, is. Was. I don't know."

"And you've kept this all to yourself?"

"Yeah. No. No, Munk. I talk with Munk about it."

"So that's what your talks have been about."

"Yeah. I guess."

"How's he with it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. He feels sorry."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Now's really not the time to be offering to suck me off."

"I have pride, thank you very much!" Bombalurina snorted and looked to the side.

"Sorry."

"I meant it though. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You still want to help me even through this? I thought you loved me."

"You're my friend. A friend with benefits. I love you, but not like _that_. That spot's already been taken. Been taken for years."

Tugger was stunned. "You… love someone?"

And, Bombalurina, seeming to realize the error in her words, tensed before again shrugging. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh, don't you dare. I just confessed my story, don't you dare hold out on me."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it someone I know?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's a yes. A friend of mine?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Another yes. Is he handsome? Tall?"

"No, no, and no."

"… is he really a she?"

Bombalurina was quiet.

"Dude, you lezzed out? That's awesome!"

"Ugh, you're so fucking degrading sometimes!"

"What? I was trying to lighten the mood."

"Well, you blew it."

"Who is it?"

"Like hell I'd tell you."

"I can keep a secret."

"_Drop it_."

Tugger's expression softened. "… Cass?"

"Cass?" Bombalurina's face lit up for a moment as if considering the queen for the first time though she shook her head.

"… Demeter, then."

Bombalurina didn't answer. Nor did she hug Tugger back when he embraced her. As her shoulder became wet from his tears, she stood tall and didn't weep.

"How can you live with it? Live every day wanting something you can't have."

"Distractions. Lots of distractions. … and I'm happy for what little I have."

"You've never thought about telling her?"

"She's crazy about Munk. You're not honestly going to suggest I try to break them up, are you?"

"No. It'd break Munk. He needs her."

"And she'd never speak to me again."

"… how can I help?"

"You can't."

"There must be some way," Tugger asked desperately, lifting his head from her shoulder, fur indented from tears.

"I'm happy for what I can get."

"How can you be happy? I have nothing with Mistoffelees. I can't get anything from him. It burns."

"Don't shut him out."

"But Munk said it'd hurt him more."

"That doesn't mean you have to shut him out. Talk with him. Be friends. Encourage him to do what it takes to be happy, even if it's at your expense."

"I don't think I could stand to see him with someone else."

"Do you think he could when you slept with all those queens?"

"I--"

"And continued to sleep with them while being with him."

"I didn't do that."

"Yes, you did. Do the math."

"No, I stopped when I was with him."

"No, you stopped when you broke up with him."

"… whatever. I fucked up, okay?"

"Don't apologize to me. I don't care about you being a cheating son of a bitch." Bombalurina sighed. "I'll talk with him. Keep him company."

"… not that sort of company?"

"Even if he weren't as gay as Christmas, not interested. At all. And I respect you."

"We could have been good together. You and me."

"Don't go there. Don't even think about going there, Tugger."

"I'm lonely."

"Don't."

"But--"

"Tugger, I swear to the Everlasting Cat I will _never_ speak to you again."

With a sigh, and a nod of his head, he conceded. "Do you think he knew about me with..?"

"With other queens? Everyone knew. The only thing everyone doesn't know is that you two were exclusive."

"Do you think he was angry?"

"Probably."

"… damn it." Tugger's eyes lifted again. "We really could have been good together."

"Tugger," Bombalurina offered a deep sigh before squeezing his palm. "Let it go."

But what Tugger heard instead was "let him go" and, when he turned to kiss Bombalurina despite her threats, he did just that.

* * *

"If we have a son, I want him to be called Aristotle," Plato said decisively from where he lay on his back, Victoria pulled up on his chest.

"Aristotle? Pretty specific about that."

"You didn't know him before he left but Dad was Socrates, I'm Plato, and well, I want to continue the trend. Do you not like it?"

"I think it's a wonderful name, sweetheart."

"And if a girl, I don't know girl names."

"We still have some time to think about it, and they'll have names for themselves as well."

"Yeah. I still… I can't believe it."

"Me either. I wanted to be a mom for so long."

"I'm glad."

"… are you happy, Plato?"

"It means we're together forever. So yes."

"It's more than just that. You didn't want to have kids for awhile. You said that yourself."

"That was a long time ago."

"You do want this, right?"

"I do. I just… I'm scared."

"I'm scared, too," Victoria whispered. Her fingers linked with Plato's as she sighed, and he nuzzled the top of her head, shoulders drooping. It'd be the beginning of a chain, the tensions. He didn't know what was to come, the feelings of neglect, the stress of parenthood. For then he was content to hold her, and that was exactly what he did.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me for this ridiculously long chapter. Much obliged. Now, this wasn't so bad, was it? I think it was fairly happy. Well, don't worry about that because chapter four is absolutely gruesome.


	4. Holy Intervention

Special Thanks To: Wink for the sarcasm advice, Taintie for super brainstorming, ASC for demanding I finish this, and pretty much the few people who were brave enough to read and review.

Disclaimer: Same ol', same ol'.

WARNING: This is a sexy chapter that's ridiculously long.

* * *

**IV – Holy Intervention**

"Munkustrap, are you busy?" the soft and sweet voice of Jellylorum asked from the mouth of his den, Asparagus standing alongside her. "We could come back later if now's a problem." Munkustrap glanced to the pair from where he lay on his side. He sat upright before gesturing them in, then rose to his feet as he motioned toward one of the long crates he'd covered with pillows into a makeshift couch. Only when they resettled did Munkustrap sit again.

"I'd always make time for you. How can I help you?" he asked before Jellylorum began to cry. Asparagus wrapped an arm around her shoulder before he looked at Munkustrap with a sort of pity. Munkustrap's stomach tightened.

"It's all right," Asparagus murmured. "Take your time." Jellylorum did, and Munkustrap found it difficult to watch the queen who often comforted the other cats in need of comfort herself. It was humbling.

"It's Tumblebrutus," she sniveled. "I don't know what to do about him."

"Is he acting out?"

"He forgot he was sick. Almost attacked Admetus over a soccer game. If Admetus got cut, and Tumblebrutus as well… I don't know what to do."

"Maybe he shouldn't be doing sports."

"That's not really the problem." She trembled and rubbed at her eyes. "He hasn't since. He hasn't even left the den since it happened. When I try to make him go out, he just hides and finds a way to come back in, and then he's curled up on his bed. He cries all the time. Do you know how hard it is to come home every day to see your son crying and not be able to do anything about it?"

_No, because I don't have a son…_ Sore subject aside, Munkustrap exhaled. "That's understandable given the circumstances," Munkustrap offered gently. "He's very ill and has suffered a great deal of trauma."

"He's not crying for us either. He misses his human home; he's crying for them." Jellylorum shuddered as she wiped at his eyes. "But if he goes home, they'll kill him. He doesn't understand that."

Asparagus rubbed her shoulders. Jellylorum and Asparagus made for a cute couple, and got Pouncival out of the deal and, despite how often they had to scold him or ground him, they made for a great faily. Munkustrap had thought Tumblebrutus was also their mutual son but Asparagus claimed that wasn't the case. Oddly enough, he got along generally well with Tumblebrutus, the kit taking a deep liking to him, but their relationship was more mentor and student than father (or step-father) and son. Munkustrap made the mistake of asking who Tumblebrutus's father was; Asparagus got a stiff upper lip, said "the cat might as well be dead," and walked away. Munkustrap still didn't know who Tumblebrutus's father was and, after observing how Tumblebrutus didn't seem to get angry when watching the other kittens with their fathers, he doubted the boy knew himself.

Munkustrap cleared his throat. "Do you want me to explain it to him?"

"No," Jellylorum said suddenly, shaking her head. "No. No, it'd hurt him. He'd rebel. He'd… he'd maybe go back there."

"But he could go back on his own now, even."

"You don't know my sons. Pouncival, anything withheld, he would find out what it was or just go out on his own anyway. Tumblebrutus, his mischief is innocent; the worst he's done is play harmless pranks. He'd never disobey me. If he found out something like that, I don't know what he'd do. I can't lose him. I can't lose my baby."

"Surely, there must be something we can do," Munkustrap frowned. Jellylorum turned her head into Asparagus's shoulder, unable to restrain from sobbing. After sighing, Munkustrap sat on the other side of her, taking one of her paws in both of his. "You don't need to do this alone, Jelly. We're here for you. We're here for every Jellicle."

"How can we be there for every one when we didn't even know he was doing nip?" she argued, shoulders quaking.

She had him on that one. Since then, they'd monitored the kittens more closely, though none of the younger ones seemed too eager to try it. Admetus still often smelled of it, and on occasion Plato and Alonzo as well, though far less frequently. Tumblebrutus could have been prevented. That fault was on all of their backs.

"The ball is a far way off. Maybe I can organize some sort of dance in the meanwhile, something to get him out of the den and look forward to," Munkustrap suggested feebly. "I'll talk with the kits, see about maybe some of them visiting him."

"Maybe," Jellylorum exhaled. "Maybe…"

"Or is there anything that really cheers him up? Any other activities?"

"He loved his tumbling, but he's getting so weak I'm afraid he won't be able to do it." Jellylorum rubbed at her eyes before taking in a deep breath. "I should go back. He might be hungry."

"He's a teenager. He'll know to get food," Asparagus said gently.

"You wouldn't be saying that if it were Pouncival," she snapped.

"I thought we weren't going to compare the boys," Asparagus lightly growled.

"Please," Munkustrap interrupted. "Look… fighting won't help any. Let me think about what I can do. I promise you, Tumblebrutus will _not_ be neglected."

"I hope you're right, Munkustrap. I really hope you're right," Jellylorum whispered. "Thank you. Thank you."

_Don't thank me yet, _Munkustrap thought though, wisely, didn't voice aloud.

***

"So wait a second, Jellylorum _and_ Asparagus went to _you_ about Tumblebrutus?" Tugger asked, simply amazed as he picked at a shrimp with a claw, somewhat disinterested in the most recent snatch. "Jeez, talk about double teaming you."

"Tell me about it. I kept asking what I could do, if they wanted me to talk with him. I think they just wanted someone to listen."

"You make for a good therapist."

"Lovely."

"Seriously man, that sucks. I mean, bad enough to deal with one parent but one and the guy who's not the father of her precious darling angel."

"Hey, cool it. He's sick."

"I'm serious. I'd have told them that they're lucky the kid didn't kick the bucket yet."

Munkustrap blinked, an eyebrow arching before he gave a thin smile. "You're more like yourself, Tugger."

"Huh?"

"Your mood. You're more like yourself."

"I'm the same as I was."

"You haven't been this much of an asshole since Misto." Munkustrap paused, then frowned. "You didn't-"

"No, I didn't fuck him, thank you very much," he snapped. "Last time I saw him, I walked out on him. He hasn't spoken to me sense."

"But you slept with someone, surely." Tugger didn't deny. "… who?"

"Bomba."

Munkustrap exhaled and shook his head. "Knew it. And Demeter was telling me to ease up on her abou-"

"Munk, knock it off. Seriously. She said no, and I pushed her."

"You WHAT?!"

"I don't know what it was." He sighed before laying on his back, paws linking behind his head. "We're two heartbroken cats."

"Should I ask?"

"No."

"Okay."

"You'd be pissed."

"I said okay."

"All right."

"Yeah."

"She loves someone. Who's not me."

"Tugger, you suck at keeping your mouth shut."

"Fuck you. I feel shitty enough as is, I don't need you contributing to that."

"Does Misto know?"

"No. At least I hope not." He frowned then. "… did you take me for a cheater?"

"Wasn't quite the term I'd use. I was thinking more player."

"Oh. … did other cats?"

"Yeah… why'd you think all the toms wanted to be you?"

"Because I'm awesome."

"No, because you score chicks."

"Yeah, because I'm awesome."

"Tugger, no. You're not."

"You don't need to be all jealous. I'd share the chicks if you asked. Hell, I'd let you have a ride on the Bomb if that made you happy."

"We're not talking about this anymore," Munkustrap groaned, though he tried to smile. There were a few glimpses of that old Tugger, that cat he grew up with and knew. Seeing Tugger introspective was a gem, but it was depressing knowing the reason. He scruffed up the back of his headfur with a paw. "Hey Tugger?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think you could do me a big favor?"

"… what sort of favor?"

"Maybe you could talk with Tumblebrutus."

"What?! Me?! Why me?"

"He idolizes you. Maybe you could get him to open up a little, or at least leave the house. Jellylorum isn't getting through to him, and it looks like Pouncival isn't having much luck either."

"Shit, Munk, I'm not good at the serious talks."

"Could have fooled me."

"Yeah but that wasn't about you. That was about me. I'm selfish."

"So think about it this way—if you don't help him, you're losing your next generation of fans because sooner or later Plato's going to drop the act, Admetus will be too stoned to remember, and Pouncival will get bored, and by the time they have kittens you'll be going grey."

"That's not true!" Tugger spluttered, mortified.

"Just talk with the kid. Please?"

Tugger offered a groan then nod of his head as he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "When it sinks ship, it's so not my fault."

"Thanks," Munkustrap uttered, relieved, and filled with a strange sort of faith. Maybe Tugger was growing up after all.

--

Mungojerrie kicked a recently empty can of tuna across the junkyard as he licked his lips, then used his claws to pick at his teeth. "So why're you telling me this?"

Pouncival groaned as he rubbed his forehead with a palm. "Look, you're the only one who knows anything about what happened to Brutus."

"And Teazer."

"… yeah, whatever. Just, you found him, you know the details."

"Not all the nitty gritty. I'm not that good."

"How bad is it?" Pouncival asked, exhaling.

"You tell me."

"What the hell am I supposed to say to my little brother when he keeps crying because he's homesick?"

Mungojerrie paused before he exhaled and leaned forward. "You sure you want to know? And, how much do you want to know? Because what I witnessed sure wasn't pretty, and what the boys filled me in on was even worse."

"Tell me everything."

"You sure?"

"Everything," Pouncival enunciated slowly, firmly.

"All right… don't say I didn't warn you." Mungojerrie sat back. "Guy named Fangor. Works for Macavity, has his own gang. Gangbang sorta thing."

"Jesus…"

"Well, your little bro consented to Jazz. That was where he went wrong."

"Who's Jazz?"

"Jazzernik? You don't know him?" Pouncival shook his head, and Mungojerrie whistled. "Fuck, man, he's more dangerous than Fangor. I mean, Fangor's the head of the gang 'n shit, but Jazz is the brains behind the operation. Fangor's a sick fuck, but Jazz gets off on all of it. He's convincing. Apparently Brutus thought he just had to suck him off, but Jazz didn't let him finished. Would change his deal, say that he agreed to let Jazz fuck him. Apparently, Brutus tried to get away, and they pulled a blade on him and said a deal was a deal or they'd slit his throat, so your brother let Jazz and was forced to choke on another guy. The deal kept changing, and they'd tell him if he was a good kit they'd let him go home, or else they'd keep him and send back a fake corpse. If I arrived sooner, I'd have been pressured to fuck him too. You don't really say no when Fangor thinks it's his idea, even if it was really Jazz's." Mungojerrie punched the bridge of his nose. "You see, that's where it got fucked up. Fangor was last for a reason. He's sick, everyone knows he's sick, and for whatever reason he hasn't infected this small gang he has. Fangor, no one's sure what he's got; whatever it is, he's had it for awhile. Probably more than one thing. It's eating him so he'll go out slowly and painfully. Until that happens, pretty much will rape and kill without discrimination: queens, kings, toms, kittens. Not always in that order."

"Jesus Christ! Bastard deserves the most slow and painful death! I hope it eats him!" Pouncival growled.

"Yeah, but the problem is if that's the case, and that's the disease, it means your bro's gonna suffer the same. Slowly, and painfully."

Silence drew between them. Mungojerrie sighed. "I asked you if you were sure you wanted to know."

"Yeah… I know. Thanks." The cat rubbed his paws together. "Hey Mungo, you've got a human home… right?" Pouncival asked after a moment, gesturing to Mungojerrie's collar. "The vets… there's no way Mom was wrong, right? They'd put him down if let him go home?"

Mungojerrie exhaled. "Considering everything Fangor's done, dead or alive, I don't see how he'd get out of there."

"Shit," Pouncival swore, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You okay?"

"You just told me my brother's gonna fucking croak, what do YOU think?"

"I think you should get him with good graces with Old Deuteronomy so he can be reborn."

"… Old Deuteronomy…" Pouncival's eyes widened at the revelation. It was the biggest honor to be chosen for that, something that could be far out of his brother's league. Tumblebrutus was an omega. Even though Grizzabella had passed, she had once been in her prime a head queen. "You don't think he'd--"

"HEY POUNCIVAL, YOU FAGGOT!" Admetus bellowed, waving a paw broadly, grinning. "We're all gonna get some grub. You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there!" Pouncival yelled back before looking to Mungojerrie. "… thanks."

"How can you stand to be around him? Admetus, I mean, after he dealt all the nip and shit," Mungojerrie asked.

"I can't," Pouncival replied evenly. "But if I don't get him off his guard, I won't be able to get close enough to beat the shit out of him." And, with a smile that was all too cheery, Pouncival scooted away from Mungojerrie toward his unsuspecting acquaintance.

***

"So, how kosher do you think it'd be to ask Cass if she'd want a threesome with me and Munkustrap?"

Alonzo's question was so out of right field that Plato choked on the kibble he chewed, distracted by the concoction he'd been making for the past hour that was supposed to resemble food. "What?"

"I've been thinking. Cass is his third mate, and I want him, and maybe it'd get it through his head that I can't ethically be arranged to mate his daughter if I'm screwing him."

"Uh, dude?"

"What?"

"I dunno what kosher means, but Munkus is straight."

"Are you sure?"

"Preeeettttty sure."

"How can you be sure?"

"He'd have fucked Mr. M already if he weren't."

Alonzo rolled his eyes. "Whaaaat? How the hell does he fit into the equation?"

"The what?" Plato cocked his head to the side, perplexed.

"Ugh, Plato, seriously, you need to learn English or something." Alonzo snorted. "What does the 'Magical Mister Mistoffelees' have to do with Munkustrap's sexuality?"

"Because he always sleeps with any tom who's even bi-curious."

"What? That's bullshit. You're lying."

"Nuh uh. Serious, bro."

"Did _you_ sleep with him?"

"What? Misto? Ewwwwwwwwie, ew, ew, no."

"But you said you were bi-curious!"

"When?!"

"When I told you I was bi!"

"And you believed me? Shit, man, and I thought you were the smart one."

"Plato, I'm giving you five seconds to explain before I kick you in the nuts."

"Chill out, man." Plato stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back before bending at the elbows to scratch behind his shoulders. "Lonz, I was just trying to make you feel better since you were so 'serious business' about being bi. You looked like you were going to kill yourself or something."

"You mean you lied to me?! You said you could be considered bi-curious because of Tugger!"

"Oh. Well, I would do him."

"The hell?! That's bi-curious, fucktart!"

"No, it's not! I like to refer to myself as…" Plato paused, a head lifting for dramatic effect, "Tugger-sexual."

Alonzo snorted again, eyes rolling. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've heard." Plato, however, only grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"Point being, Munkus isn't remotely curious in the penoooorz. Sorry man. You'll need to find some other hole to fuck."

"Your Misto rule's stupid."

"You're in denial, man."

"I haven't done him."

"_Yet_."

"Ugh, no thanks. Little queeny twinks aren't my thing."

"Right. Only straight toms who want you to mate their draughts and naïve, innocent ones are."

"Sod off."

"It'll happen," Plato said after a moment, more as fact. "You and Misto. Especially since he's on the hunt. I heard he let Electra suck him off."

"Whaaaat? Dude, that's bullshit."

"She said it."

"She's lying. And I'm _not_ going to sleep with him, thank you very much."

"Hey 'Lonz?"

"What?"

"You know I love Vicky and all, right? I mean, she's my girl."

"You only talk about her every five minute since you've been together with her," Alonzo answered, partly annoyed at his best friend's inability to stay on a subject that wasn't Victoria for more than five minutes, and partly relieved they weren't talking about him and the magical cat. Sure, he admired Mr. Mistoffelees greatly for his talent, but he certainly wasn't a fan of his Quaxo-side. "What's up?"

Plato was caught in thought, seeming to gaze at the sky before he looked at Alonzo and hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. "I was thinkin'…"

"You mean with something other than your _little head_ for a change? In that case, this has the potential to be absolutely _spellbinding_… I'm all ears." Alonzo smirked, arms folding over his chest as he waited for the comeback that didn't come. Instead, he became startled when Plato stormed away from him. "Plato? Yo, Plato, what the hell?" he called bewildered, chasing him.

"Fuck off, Alonzo."

"Plato, dude, I was joking."

"It wasn't fucking funny."

"Dude, we always fuck around like this."

"I was fucking going to tell you something important, damn it! Why do you always have to do this holier than you shit?"

"You mean 'holier than thou'?"

"Fuck you!"

"Dude, Plato, wait! Seriously!" Alonzo tried to grab Plato's arm but the tom slapped his paw away. "Considering your revelations sometimes include asking your girlfriend and her best friend in front of everyone if they enjoyed it when the vet sticks a thermometer up their butts it's hard to take them seriously." Plato stopped then, turning to face Alonzo, squaring off.

"That! That's EXACTLY what I mean! THAT! I fucking HATE that! All the big words and stuff, acting like you're all better than me and shit. You know what? You're not. Maybe I get the shit mixed up, maybe I don't have the words you know, maybe I don't read too good, but that doesn't mean I'm not as good as you!" Plato glared at Alonzo waiting for a reply, but Alonzo was mute. "What? Going to use your big words to find all the different ways to call me a retard?"

"I was thinking of the best way to say sorry."

Plato withdrew. "Oh."

"I dunno, Plato. Maybe you don't realize it but-"

"What? I'm too dumb to pick up on something that's astigmatism?"

Alonzo again became quiet. There was no biting remark on the misused word for 'astounding.' There was just the moment between them, and he finished gently. "Sometimes it's hard to tell if you're serious or trying to be funny."

Plato was silent.

"I'm here for you," Alonzo sighed. "You know when it's serious I am. I _always_ am."

"Maybe."

"Damn it, I'm sorry. I already said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?"

"To fucking listen to someone that's not you for once, or to actually pay attention to your best friend instead of verbally lick Munkustrap's butthole."

"God, that's lewd."

"So are you. You're talkin' about wanting a threesome with your sometimes girlfriend and her mate after he asked you to be his daughter's mate. That's fucked up, Al. No matter how you look at it, that's fucked up."

Silence.

"I'm listening now," Alonzo offered.

"Good. Because I was thinking," Plato paused, a glare given to Alonzo in warning, though the cat was attentive. "I mean… Old Deuteronomy had like a million wives so I was thinkin' maybe I could marry her. Do the more-than-mates thing."

"Whoa, dude. Not… a lot of cats do that."

"I know."

"I mean, that'd be a huge deal."

"I know."

"I mean, are you sure you'd want to do that?"

"If it meant I could be together with Victoria forever."

"But-"

"I was going to ask if you'd be my best man."

Alonzo took a step back, head shaking for a moment. "… what?"

Plato looked away. "I mean. Girls like that stuff. Romantic ceremonies and all. And she was telling me about her family, and how one of the daughters got married in the house, it was small. And she was so happy. And I was thinking maybe that'd be good to do for her. I mean," he paused. "I've been thinking about it for awhile. And like, you're my best friend so…" And he turned away. "Never mind. Stupid idea."

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"I'd love to."

"… really?" Plato looked back to Alonzo, the anger on his face replaced with sheer bliss.

"Yeah. I mean, hey, you're serious. That's awesome. I want to support you, you know?"

"Dude, you rock. I'm sorry about saying that about licking Munkustrap's butthole."

"… let's just not talk about that."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"All right. Awesome. Anyway, we better go. I told Admetus we'd meet up with him and Pouncival for food."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"When were we supposed to meet up with them?"

"… probably an hour ago."

"Hey Plato?"

"What?"

"You suck."

***

"Hey," Tugger called, rapping upon the mouth of the den, nose wrinkling as dirt smudged on the back of his knuckles. He stalled before wiping them off on a kitchen towel when walking into Jellylorum's den, like hell he'd do that on his leather pants. Come to think of it, he had never been there before. No need to. Playfully, he'd hit on Jellylorum before, but even though he had no qualms with MILFs (everyone had a fetish, really), he'd not been taken to her, or the munchkins.

"Hello?" he said, voice rising in volume, scanning the walls. It was tidy, eerily arranged almost like a human home especially considering most of the household was made of strays. Tugger realized he wouldn't mind having a den in the Junkyard like this. _Jellylorum did well_.

The further into the den he went came the branches off into two segments, presumably two rooms. One of the dirt walls was smooth bordering the door, the other more compacted but one with a sloppily scribbled 'POUNCE IS AWESOME' on it. He looked to the empty one, then the one with Pounce before opening the second. Jellylorum had to sleep somewhere, and he doubted she'd be sharing a room with either of her sons.

Carefully, he gripped the small bit of plywood that was bordering it and pulled it back. "Hello?"

The den had two human pillows on either side of the room, both covered with blankets though one was noticeably more messy with a pile of laundry on it and the other neat though with a suspicious looking lump underneath it.

Last time he'd do Munk a favor, Tugger thought with a sigh though he couldn't help the curiosity that dug at him when he took in the room for his fanboys. Really, it wasn't so bad; he could see why Pouncival liked it. Jellylorum did them well. He wasn't sure whether it'd always been like that, or if the humanistic qualities added to the room were for Tumblebrutus's sake.

On the wall were some small scraps of paper tacked up, pictures torn out from little magazines, some sketches drawn with crayon or ink. Tugger couldn't help but smile at one of them, a near immaculate representation of himself. Cute kid, Tugger thought.

"What are you doing here, Tugger?" Tumblebrutus asked, seemingly groggy, startling the older cat.

"Hey. I was calling, but you didn't wake up." The maine coon swelled with pride, and tapped the picture. "So hey, was it you who did this? Because it's really good. Great likeness."

"Huh? Oh, no. That was Pounce."

Tugger blinked, a bit surprised. "Pouncival drew this?"

"Yeah. He did all the art in here."

"All of it?" Tugger's eyes scanned the room once more. It was admirable. Definitely admirable.

"He's really good. I can't draw at all."

"I… wow. Uh. Yes, yes, he is," Tugger said, eyeing the picture over, a little embarrassed at the assumption that it was Tumblebrutus. The younger boy exhibited such talent for gymnastics and dance, he'd assumed all around. Sometimes, often, it would shroud his older brother's achievements of which, until that moment, he thought he had none.

"I bet he'd give it to you if you asked," Tumblebrutus murmured, pulling the blanket higher over him.

"Well uh, I wasn't here to collect art. Came to see how you were."

"Me?" The boy blinked. "… oh, I…"

"I heard you've been a bit homesick," Tugger continued after a moment as he moved to the bed, not waiting for an invitation as he sat next to the youth.

"They won't let me go home."

"I know. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"I want to go." His ears dropped slightly.

"You know, holing yourself up here's only gonna make you feel worse. You'll start feeling sorry for yourself and shit."

"I'm too dangerous out there."

"No, you're not."

"But I could have killed Admetus."

"Dude, no offense, but Admetus could take you down in about two seconds flat if you actually were trying." Tugger offered a shrug. "You learned."

"Pouncival didn't need to tell them about thermometers at the vet," Tumblebrutus grumbled.

"… wait, what? This was all because of something like that?"

"No. He was an ass-"

"Jesus, what's wrong with you kits? Seriously, that happens to _everyone_. You, me, Munk – though I'm kinda convinced they forgot to take it out of his arse, he's so stuck up. Why's it a big deal?"

Tumblebrutus blinked. "But they were laughing at me."

"Let them laugh. They won't be laughing when they're dying from some sorta disease and didn't have the vet check it out."

Only after he spoke did Tugger realize his error.

"See? That's what I don't get! If I go there, I'll go to the vet, they'll get me medicine, and I can get better."

"I… think you should listen to your mom."

"What? Why?"

"Kid," he stalled, unsure of what to say. "I think you're looking better."

Tumblebrutus blinked naively. "… really?"

"Yeah," he said, more hurriedly. "Your mom probably just wants you stronger so you can do it yourself, you know? And feel proud."

"She wants that for me?"

"Of course. And your brother, too. They love you, they really do."

"Hey Brutus? You awake?" Pouncival called, tapping the open wood door before stepping in. "I was, whoa! Tugger, what are you doing here?" Immediately, he scooted to his bed and tried folding the mound of laundry.

"Just came for a visit. Probably should get going. Oh but hey, your little bro said you drew all this?"

"Oh. These. Yeah," the cat mumbled. "They're not that great."

"Not that great? Kid, you've got raw talent. It's incredible."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. But hey, don't let me keep you." Tugger rose to his feet. "I've gotta say hi to some pretty lades." He scrufed up Pouncival's hair.

"Ha, cool, man. I was gonna go get some food with Admetus, Alonzo, and Plato. We were thinking of seeing if some of the girls would tag along." Pouncival looked to his brother. "You wanna come too, Brutus? It's a nice day out. Warm."

"I don't know…" the tom murmured, worriedly. "I don't feel so good."

"You sure? It'd be really fun to have you come along," Pouncival tried. "And Jemima might be there. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

"I doubt any of the girls would want to see me."

"Lighten up, kid," Tugger sighed before striding out. "Come on, Pouncival. If he's not gonna go with you guys, I will."

"You wanna hang out with us?" Pouncival asked, amazed as he turned his back to Tumblebrutus and trotted after him.

"Yeah, why not? It's been awhile since I've been lavished as the God I am," he joked once outside.

"Tugger! Dude, hey!" Plato greeted enthusiastically.

"Sup, kit?" Tugger greatened in response, fist formed to lightly knuckle punch the other.

"So, I think we're good to go," Pouncival said, about to take a step when he heard the creek of wood from the makeshift door, Tumblebrutus looking a little pale though dressed in jeans and a tshirt, converse loosely tied.

"Hey…" he began strongly, though his voice became meek. "Can I come with you guys?"

"Of course," Pouncival said immediately, just about rushing to his brother's side. "Of course, of course. You're always welcome with us."

"Yeah, it's good to see you," Alonzo added in.

"I hope you're hungry, because I need to eat. Like now." And Admetus beamed as he led the troupe, Tugger lolling near the back with Tumblebrutus and Pouncival. There was no need to lead that day, and seeing Pouncival smile was almost worth more than seeing Tumblebrutus not feeling sorry for himself.

***

"Where were you?" Demeter asked as Munkustrap walked in the den.

"Out. With Tugger."

"But where?"

"Just out." Munkustrap stretched as he began to unbutton his shirt. "It's been a long one," he sighed, sliding it off his shoulders before folding the fabric and placing it in a makeshift dresser, shoe boxes stacked on their sides to form shelves. He exhaled before turning back to Demeter, and approaching, crawling on the low bed before he moved behind her. Arms encircled her waist as he rounded his shoulders, head ducked to kiss the back of her neck and shoulder. Demeter crossed her arms in front of her chest and shifted.

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Mmm, when am I not?"

"Seemingly for awhile," Demeter replied, Munkustrap pausing before he moved his kisses to the side of her neck, lightly grazing his teeth against the skin.

"I'm with you now."

"But for how long?" Demeter questioned. Munkustrap put one paw on her face, guiding it to his for a kiss. "How long?" she insisted, turning her head away, though she didn't fight the digits that tugged at the buttons holding her shirt together. Her back arched as they popped open one by one. Munkustrap often preferred the slow art of seduction, and never was one to be rough, but he was moving faster than normal with his usually skittish Demeter.

"You're silly," he murmured, kisses moving a bit lower, a delightful purr emitting when he succeeded in getting her shirt open and off her shoulders, a paw sliding beneath the cup of her bra. Demeter took in a shaky breath, offering a tiny moan as she pressed back.

"I miss you, Munkus."

"I'm here right now, love."

"It's not what I mea--" her voice broke off in another moan as Munkustrap smirked, turning her on his back before crawling over her and working at the fly to her slacks.

"Good?" he asked, tail swishing as he tugged at the fabric.

"Yeah, but—it's just—you haven't for so long."

"I'll just have to change that then."

"You love me, don't you?"

Munkustrap crawled over Demeter so he was high enough to kiss her lips. "Of course. And I'm going to show you just how much I love you right now." His tail never ceased its swish as he kissed lower, moving to her stomach.

"I just worry that it's about—AH!" the queen threw her head back, arms moving above her head as she gripped the blanket for support. "I love you, I love you," she panted, and Munkustrap's mouth said _I love you, too._

***

"You should just call it off with him," Alonzo murmured, arms wrapped around Cassandra's lean form.

"I can't. You know I can't."

"But he'd understand."

"Being the third mate of next in succession is a huge honor."

"But I'm in line right after him-"

"If he doesn't have an heir."

"He's _old_."

"You're young."

"He's only had one kit out of trying how many times? You won't even let me give you kittens."

"I don't want to jeopardize their future."

"So this is about that?!"

"You wouldn't understand. You're a man."

"No, that's bullshit!"

"No. Listen to yourself." Cassandra wrinkled her nose. "I came here. I had nothing. Look at me. I'm one of the highest ranked queens."

"And you're miserable."

"No, I'm actually not," Cassandra snapped. "I hate that you assume that about me. I'm not dumping him. If you do not wish to share me with other toms-"

"Other toms?! More than just Munkustrap?!"

"You think I didn't notice you before with all those queens?"

"I'm leaving."

"Fine."

"Aren't you going to try to stop me?" Alonzo asked, more desperately. Cassandra looked away. And, with a growl, Alonzo stepped out of the den. He was halfway across the Junkyard when it came:

"Rough night?"

The question was so quickly asked and seemingly out of nowhere that he almost fell over, stunned when he turned around to see the tuxedo cat. "Don't do that, Misto," he exhaled.

"Cassandra?"

"… you're being creepy now."

"I was only asking."

"Yeah. Cass."

"Was it about her with others, or your infidelity?"

"What?! How'd you know that?"

"Your expression."

"Oh…" Alonzo shook his head. "It's nothing. She's not taking us seriously, and not going to break up with Munkustrap so I'm going to find my own things."

"That's a plan."

"What are you doing this late at night?" Alonzo asked then, curiously. Mistoffelees only shrugged, but Alonzo swore it was melancholic.

"I didn't feel like being home. Was looking for company."

Alonzo tensed for a moment. "You're barking up the wrong tree."

"I wasn't asking you."

"Oh."

"I hope you have a good night," Mistoffelees murmured, turning his back from Alonzo. He only made ten steps before Alonzo couldn't help it.

"Where are you going?"

"To seek company," Mistoffelees called.

"Wait up." Alonzo jogged forward a few steps, and Mistoffelees stopped. Alonzo slowed just behind the other. "What… sort of company?"

Mistoffelees smiled even before he looked behind his shoulder. "You're welcome to come with me." And he looked back toward his path, setting off into the night.

Alonzo inhaled sharply as he looked around. This was bullshit. This was absolutely bullshit. Plato's words were haunting, but Plato was an idiot.

And that was why, he reasoned, after taking a worried breath, he followed.

***

"Tugger? What's wro--" Munkustrap's words were cut off as Tugger hissed a "shh," and gestured him over to the wall he sat on. Munkustrap arched an eyebrow warily before he climbed up and sat next to his sibling, only then looking to source of attention, getting hit with the visual the same time as the sound.

Below them, Alonzo slammed Mistoffelees against a wall, kissing him harshly, paws groping where they could before they were flipped around, Mistoffelees dropping to his knees, Alonzo throwing his head back with a cry.

"Oh Jesus—Tugger, you shouldn't be watching this. It's bad for you."

"I'm not moving."

"But Tugger-"

"I'm not leaving," the cat offered again, firmly.

Munkustrap sighed as he settled back to watch, Alonzo's cries escalating before Mistoffelees pulled away. Alonzo's protests were large until the black cat began to undo his pants, then more subdued before a short argument as Alonzo flipped Mistoffelees' face to the wall and moved behind him.

"Tugger…"

"I think that's the tenth Jellicle he's hooked up with that I know about," Tugger said softly, sadly. "We played sometimes, roughhoused, but I never did that to him. I never would. I liked looking at his face. He has beautiful expressions."

"I'm sorry."

"It's punishment."

"What?"

"For Bomba. What he's doing."

"You don't think that's true, do you?"

"Watch. He's going to get on the ground now and pull Alonzo over him, then when he's in, he's going to flip them over and go for a ride."

"Tugger, that's… exactly what's happening. How'd you-?"

"That's what I did with Bomba. Exactly the same."

"But this--?"

"It's revenge or something. I don't know. He knows everything I do, almost everything, except me being sorry. He doesn't seem to get that. Even now, he knows I'm watching him."

"How would he know?"

"He's not called "the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees" for nothing. He knows." Tugger exhaled as he shifted his weight and shook his head. "I'm severely regretting Bomba."

"I'm sorry."

"How are things with Demeter?"

"Demeter? Things are fine. Why?" Munkustrap asked non-assuming.

"Bomba said there was some trouble."

"Nothing's wrong. We had a great night yesterday." Munkustrap sighed then, gazing off. "Really great night."

"I'm glad. You needed to get laid," Tugger sighed, and looked away, the movement drawing Munkustrap's attention.

"… should I have not said that?"

"Munk, I seriously don't care."

"Yeah, but you and--"

"Munk, you practically know my entire sex life. If you didn't sleep with your mates, I'd be worried."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Oh."

Munkustrap exhaled then, eyes falling on Mistoffelees and Alonzo as the smaller cat was turned again, shoved facefirst against the ground.

"That never happened with Bomba and me," Tugger said, rising to his feet, eyes narrowing. Munkustrap closed a paw around his brother's wrist.

"Don't."

"He's treating my Misto like a damn whore."

"But he's not yours anymore." Tugger tensed, and Munkustrap rose to his feet with a sigh. "Come on. Let's go."

"But Misto…"

"He'll be all right." Munkustrap moved to take Tugger's paw in his, giving a gentle squeeze over the black leather biker gloves his sibling wore. After a prolonged pause, Tugger followed as they walked through the junkyard to the alleys, to the docks. Once more, Tugger distracted the fish monger while Munkustrap snagged a bag of scallops, which he more eagerly dug into. Unsurprisingly, Tugger didn't eat.

"I don't want him with other cats. I don't want him with other toms."

"I know. But you need to do what's best for him."

"How is this best for him?"

"The Jellicles are treating him better than they were."

"Why? Out of guilt for him letting them fuck him?"

"No. I think time heals most wounds."

"Time won't mend this."

"Yeah, it will."

"No, it won't."

"But-"

"I'll never love someone the way I love him."

Munkustrap didn't know how close to the truth that would be.

_To Be Continued…_

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: Well, that was a steamy chapter, wasn't it? Lots of innuendo galore. Do you like innuendo as much as me? I hope so otherwise maybe you'd think this chapter sucks.


	5. Error

Disclaimer: This fanfiction was not a byproduct of marshmallow fluff and should not be consumed unless you are a billy goat. Hate Drama? Don't read it. Think that it's mean to bully characters? Don't read it. Don't like pickles? What's wrong with you?

* * *

**V – Error**

* * *

"Enjoyed yourself?"

Mistoffelees was rarely startled, but that day Tugger caught him off-guard. The cat looked up from where he'd just kissed a nameless tom goodbye and redid his fly. For a moment, he strained and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, but soon that passed. Embarrassment became anger, and a challenge. "Yes, actually. I did. Very much so."

Tugger frowned and looked aside. "You worry me."

"I didn't notice."

"Of course you wouldn't." Mistoffelees' tail bristled, and Tugger was quick to add, "I didn't mean it that way."

Mistoffelees was unsympathetic. "Whatever."

"Misto?"

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

_"What? _The black cat paused. Immobile. Tugger felt unsettled by Mistoffelees' discomfort, yet he asked the question again.

"For all of this… do you hate me?"

Silence.

"Misto?"

Silence.

Tugger looked ill. "Oh God, you do-"

"I'm thinking, damn it. Give me a second."

"Why do you need to think about it. You should know—just yes or no."

"But-"

"Do you hate me, or don't you?"

"It's more than just knowing, Tugger." Mistoffelees turned to rest his back against the wall, and Tugger moved to face him.

"So…?"

Mistoffelees sighed, and rubbed his neck. "I didn't love you at first sight. I grew to love you. But I didn't hate you at first sight, either."

Tugger was still uncomfortable. "Did you grow to hate me?"

"… no," Mistoffelees admitted quietly.

"So what's the problem?"

"I'm angry with you. I tried talking with you and you just walked off."

"It's for the best."

"Me fucking around with how many toms? Really, now?"

"That's unfair."

"Why? You're were out fucking Bombalurina during our entire relationship so why the fuck should you care about what the fuck I do since we broke up?" Mistoffelees stopped himself then, seemingly mortified. His eyes widened, horror upon his face. "I didn't-"

"Didn't what? Mean it?" Tugger frowned before he walked toward the mouth of the alley. "… yeah. Yeah, you did."

"Tugger! Tugger, you can't just walk off on me after pulling this shit! Bastard! Come back!"

"I'm not walking off on you," he called over his shoulder. "But I'm not gonna talk about this where I can still see your jizz on the wall."

* * *

It was a short walk with Mistoffelees to the docks, to Tugger's spot with Munkustrap. "It's nice," Mistoffelees complimented, partly sincere, partly wanting to break the silence. "You go here a lot?"

"Yeah. With Munk. It's sort of our spot."

"I could tell. Smells like you."

"You recognize my smell?"

"You're distinct."

"Yeah, I guess so." Tugger stretched back, legs hanging over the edge of the docks, the black cat near him, between them tuna. Tugger, oddly enough, ate from the fish alongside Mistoffelees, occasionally their claws brushing against one another's. "How'd you know? … about me and Bomba?"

Mistoffelees swallowed hard, and picked at a scale on the fish. "Everybody knew."

"I mean but when you and me, you were the first to-"

"I'm not talking about when we broke up, Tug. That'd be unfair. I'm talking about before." The cat exhaled. "I can't count all the queens' names. Did you take a tally? I'm pretty sure my numbers now haven't quite surpassed yours."

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry? Just sorry? You're not going to defend it? Say I'm being unfair? Say I'm wrong?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you're right. I fucked up. I was wrong, all right?" Tugger exhaled. "Damn it. Don't you get how sorry I am?"

Bitterly, Mistoffelees looked out over the water. "No. I really don't."

"Why?"

"If you were that sorry, you'd realize how much of a fucking asshole you are and come back to me."

"Misto, we've gone over this before."

"I don't care. It's not fair!" The black cat pressed his hands to his face. "It's all Munk this and Munk that. It's not you. It's not what I want. I lost everything, Tugger. How can being in love with you be worse than me meeting strays in alleys?"

"Misto, please… it's for the best—are you crying?"

"No," Mistoffelees sniffled, not moving his hands. Tugger exhaled and hesitated before he put a hand on the other tom's shoulder.

"I hate it when you cry-"

"I'm not crying," Mistoffelees sniveled, blatantly choking back his tears.

"-because of me."

Tugger gave his shoulder a squeeze then. Through their shirts he could feel the slight swell. Mistoffelees had gained weight, not much, but enough for Tugger to notice. It didn't fit Mistoffelees' vanity, or maybe Tugger's expectations, and he supposed it was comfort eating. Mistoffelees always liked food, a bit too much, Tugger worried, and often he got after the other about snacking, giving threats of him becoming a twenty-five pounder just like Bustopher Jones. Probably, upon realizing it really was over, Mistoffelees turned to the thing Tugger limited. Tugger couldn't quite blame the other, even though he'd somewhat done the opposite, refusing food more and more frequently. What Mistoffelees gained in weight and lovers, Tugger lost. "I really am sorry," Tugger whispered.

"I'm sorry too," Mistoffelees sniveled. "I'm sorry too."

* * *

Munkustrap remembered it had been a Sunday because in the distance he could hear the sound of church bells. He remembered going to his human home the Saturday night before, then using the cat door to slip out into the night to join Demeter but she wasn't at the junkyard, nor did she come to the door of her human home when he scratched against the wood. Then, in need of company, trekked to Cassandra's human home. She'd been surprised to see him, sitting on the deck, seemingly waiting, but when he asked would she join him she readily followed. It was a good night together.

That Sunday, Jemima had walked up to him, and he gave her a smile to try and alleviate the anxiety on his daughter's face. There was never any doubt that she was Demeter's own. "Morning, Jemima."

"Daddy?" Jemima asked, voice soft and shaky. "I… need to talk to you."

Munkustrap frowned down at his daughter from where he sat on the tire and gestured her close. Hesitantly, she hopped up next to him. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I think I'm in love."

Munkustrap's chest tightened and he coughed. "You… you what?"

"Oh God, you're mad."

"No. No, just… surprised. You're…" _way too young_, "you're really in love? Love's… love's a big word… for… someone so young."

"I know. But I've known it for years."

"That's… well, that's… that's good."

"... with two cats."

"Two?" Munkustrap bellowed before trying to quiet himself. No. No, that wasn't a problem. No. Not polyamor. He'd be a hypocrite to reprimand her for something he partook in without guilt. "I mean… I, well… well, that's all right. I have three mates… it's… it's acceptable."

"It's complicated."

"How so?"

"You promise you won't be mad?"

Alarms might have sounded in his head. Worry lines formed on Munkustrap's brow, and he answered warily. "Jemima, I could never be mad at you. You know that."

She dug her toe into the dirt. "Even if one's a girl, and the other's sick and dying?"

"Huh?" He was confused at first. And then it hit hard. Just one. A memory of those two days came to mind, those two horrible days when he walked in on his daughter. He'd been enraged when he saw his daughter's tiny paw being guided toward Tumblebrutus's jean-covered crotch, and mortified when he saw that same paw between Etcetera's thighs. "You mean..? The same ones as before?"

Jemima nodded her head, then whimpered as Munkustrap paled. "Daddy..? Daddy, what's wrong? You don't hate me, do you? Oh God. Don't hate me."

"I don't… hate you. I never could stop loving you but… but… I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, Daddy."

"Etcetera's sweet but… didn't you want children?"

"I think it's too early to be thinking about that."

"But accidents happen. You saw what happened with Victoria and Plato."

"That's because they're stupid."

"Jemima, that's not-"

"No. Really. You've said as much yourself about Plato. And… I kind of think Victoria was… wishfully thinking." Jemima shook her head. "It… doesn't matter. I'm not interested in kittens yet."

"Kittens or not… you… can't with Tumblebrutus. You'd get sick, then get your kittens sick. I… I can support you with Etcetera, but I can't with him. Do they even know how you feel?"

"Etcy… yes. Tumble…" Her voice trailed off. "But, I don't know if I want to have kittens if I can't be with him, too."

Panic rose in the back of his throat. If Jemima bore no children, the bloodline could end save for Macavity's cruel lot. And if Jemima and Tumblebrutus… he couldn't live to see his little girl sick. "Jemima, it's… if the heritage dies…"

"But I don't know if I would want another tom if I couldn't with him."

"Jemima, listen to yourself: you can't. He'll hurt you. He will. You can't. He means well, he's a sweet tom, but he also got himself in trouble. You don't want to deal with some tom who's sick with… something bad… and who had trouble with nip. You know you don't."

And, frustrated, Jemima spluttered, "But what if I already have?"

Munkustrap didn't speak, nor did he yell, nor demand she repeat herself, nor question it. Instead, Munkustrap bolted, not slowing to Jemima's screams, not slowing until he drug Tumblebrutus out of his family's den by his scruff of fur on the back of his neck, not slowing over the rough gravel that tore up the young tom's clothes and exposed limbs until they were in the clearing in the main lot of the Junkyard by the pipe. Fists crashed into the tom's face after he threw him against the door of the broken oven. Tumblebrutus meekly tried to defend himself, seeming to know he was too weak to fight back. In a losing battle, his arms crossed in front of his body, unable to fully cry, strange hiccups accompanying his shallow pants of pain and desperation. Of clinging to life.

"DADDY!" Jemima screamed, sobbing. "DADDY, HE'S BLEEDING! HE COULD DIE, YOU COULD GET SICK FROM HIM, TOO!"

"I DON'T CARE! HE DIRTIED YOU!"

"HE DIDN'T! I—I MEANT IT HYPOTHETICALLY BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE!"

And Munkustrap froze, a red fist still balled, arm pulled back in preparation to swing once more. The rage evaporated instantly. "You..?"

"I… lied. I lied, Daddy."

Munkustrap quivered as he looked to the small figure before him, face so bloodied it was unrecognizable as the sweet housecat everyone knew. He was too small for Tumblebrutus; Tumblebrutus was growing so tall. But the tom was sick... no. It couldn't have been Tumblebrutus, not the mess that was whimpering, barely getting out words, almost unintelligible. Almost. When Munkustrap made out what they were, he wished Tumblebrutus had been completely mute, or that he were deaf. It was one word, a repeated plea:

_Mommy_.

"Oh God…" Munkustrap whispered hoarsely as he shifted the frail tom into his lap, cradling him, rocking him. Long legs spilled out from the hold. He was so thin. So bloodied. So artificially small.

Jemima shivered as she tiptoed closer. "D-Daddy…"

"Jemima, get Jellylorum and Pouncival immediately. _Now_." Jemima didn't wait for Munkustrap to finish his order before she ran, and nausea built in Munkustrap's stomach, the urge to vomit striking hard. But he didn't vomit; he didn't deserve to.

"What's going on?" Skimbleshanks asked in the distance alongside Asparagus, but Munkustrap didn't pay them attention, nor any of the other Jellicles who collected and gathered, keeping their distance.

"Mommy, mommy, I want my mommy," Tumblebrutus whimpered.

"Shh… shh."

"Mommy, I need my mommy. Mommy… I want, I want-"

"Don't… don't, Tumblebrutus, please, don't-" Munkustrap begged uselessly.

"I want—I want Mo-Mommy."

Resigned, the cat curled over Tumblebrutus. "Shhh… shhh, we're… we're getting her, Tumblebrutus. We're getting your mommy. We're getting her."

* * *

"It's okay, Tumble. It's really, it's gonna be okay," Pouncival said through tears as he lay next to his wheezing brother, a rag gently used to wipe Tumblebrutus's face though the blood was long gone by that point. From outside the den, Jellylorum's screams were indistinguishable, just like Munkustrap's consistent apologies. "You'll… you're gonna be okay. I'm here now. Me and Mom are here. And I swear, I won't let you be by yourself again. I won't let you be alone again. Someone'll be with you always, I swear."

"I wanna go home…"

"You are home. We're home."

"No. My other home. I wanna go home. Why won't you let me go home? I wanna go home."

Pouncival exhaled, and shuddered. Tumblebrutus's pleas were juvenile, the stress seeming to overwhelm the tom as he reverted. "Can't you trust me on this one, Brutus? Please? You just… you don't want to go back."

"Pounce, tell me. Tell me why I can't go back."

The older brother looked down. "I don't want to be the one to tell you this. I wanted Mom to."

"Pounce..?" Tumblebrutus strained and sat upright, Pouncival's arms wrapping around his waist to support him. Immediate concern came to the younger tom's face.

"Why can't I go back? Pounce? Pounce, is it bad?"

"Yeah…" he croaked. "Yeah… it's bad. Real bad."

Concern morphed into fear. "… Pounce, tell me. Please."

Pouncival squeezed his brother by the waist. Tumblebrutus's protruding ribs were frightening. He couldn't look Tumblebrutus in the eye. "If you go back, they'll take you to the vet, and you won't come back."

"They let me outside. Of course I will."

"No, Brutus-"

"I even have the cat door."

"Brutus, no… you don't understand. Once you go, you won't be able to come back here."

Tumblebrutus cocked his head to the side. "They're going to make me an indoor cat?"

Pouncival sighed softly. "… yeah." A lie.

"I can sneak out. Mr. Mistoffelees can get me out."

"Brutus…"

"What? He can. You've seen him do his tricks."

"That's not…" Pouncival exhaled. "That's not what I meant. When you go in… they'll take you to the vet's… and you won't be coming back."

Young eyes gazed at Pouncival. "I don't understand."

Pouncival smoothed a hand over the thigh of his brother's jeans, and squeezed his knee. "They'll put you down, Brutus."

Silence.

Terror-filled eyes.

"What? Why?"

Pouncival bit his lower lip. "You're sick, Brutus… and now bloodied. They call it mercy killing."

"So until I'm better, I can't go back?" Tumblebrutus asked shakily.

"Right…"

"How long's it gonna take for me to get better?"

"I… don't know…" Another lie.

"Pounce?"

The older tom closed his eyes for a brief moment and prayed that his younger brother wouldn't ask the one question he didn't want to answer, but he did.

"I am going to get better, right?"

Pouncival's lips were dry, throat parched. His shoulders drooped. And, weakly, he shook his head. Tumblebrutus sharply pulled away from his brother, the movement catching Pouncival off-guard, before lying back down on the thick bed, pulling the blankets up and over his head.

"I love you, Brutus," Pouncival murmured, a hand touching his brother's back through the blankets before he crawled behind the mound in embrace. "I won't let you be alone ever again, Brutus. I swear." He feverently wished Tumblebrutus would answer, but his sibling was mute and only curled into a tighter ball. Pouncival couldn't tell whether the quiver he felt beneath his arms was from his brother breathing or crying.

* * *

When Demeter found Munkustrap, he was sitting in his den with his head in his paws, eyes squeezed shut as if the gesture could undo what had passed. The blood was washed off and he was scrubbed in the tub Plato and Alonzo had brought to Jennyanydots' den, but after a close inspection given to him not only by an overly thorough Skimbleshanks and Asparagus, but a furious Jennyanydots as well who was damning her mate, he knew there wasn't a scratch. He was completely unscathed. And, over a hypothetical question from sweet, sweet Jemima, he nearly killed a meek, sickly tom who couldn't even stand up for himself. Jellylorum had every reason to yell at him, but she didn't lay a single digit on him, and Jennyanydots' berating felt hardly like any consequence.

It wasn't right. He deserved something. To not be given a free card. To do penance.

"I almost killed him," Munkustrap confessed without looking up. "She lied to me, and I lost it."

"You did it out of love."

"Why did she lie to me?" Munkustrap lifted his head, eyes rimmed red though face fairly dry. "I don't understand it."

Demeter sat on the cat bed next to her mate, an arm around his back. "She's a teenager."

"But I just want her to be safe. That's all."

"You're not the only one."

Munkustrap paused before looking at his mate hard. "… you knew."

"What?"

"You knew she cared about him. About Etcetera. She told you, and not me."

"I'm her mother… sometimes girls open up to their mothers first. I certainly did."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"I promised her I wouldn't."

"But she wouldn't have needed to know that!"

"I'm having the strangest sensation of _déjà vu_. Oh, right, because obviously you told me what was going on with your brother when you promised him you wouldn't."

"What? Oh for the love of-you didn't just because of that?"

"I didn't because I promised her!"

"But that's completely different! This was about her wellbeing."

"How is that different than your brother's?"

"He's an adult. He doesn't need guidance."

"Oh, fucking get over yourself, Munkus! You're a damn hypocrite."

Munkustrap turned his head the other way so he wouldn't have to look at her. "So you weren't worried about her being in love with Tumblebrutus?"

"I was more worried about her being in love with Etcetera."

"What?" Munkustrap's attention was fixed on his mate's face once more. "Why the hell are you worried about _her_? She's completely harmless."

"Queen-kittens dating each other? That'd be a target for ridicule, or spectacle, or something equally unpleasant."

"Etcetera's harmless. She's not sick, she can't get Jemima pregnant."

"And Tumblebrutus is a male, and responsible. There'd be nothing wrong with letting them go on some dates, hold hands, kiss. Who knows how long Tumblebrutus has to live anyway?"

"You'd rather her date a tom who's dying because he's a tom rather than Etcetera because she's a queen?"

"To be honest, yes."

Munkustrap stepped backwards, disgusted. "I don't believe you."

"Jemima isn't going to do something stupid. She's not physically active."

"I caught her twice! I told you about that!"

"Making out. Kits do that."

"It looked more than making out to me."

"That doesn't matter, Munkus. We have different opinions."

"Yeah, well, at least one of ours doesn't have our daughter at risk for any disease."

"At least one of us doesn't want our daughter to be ridiculed."

"The Jellicles do _not_ ridicule others for their Goddamn orientation!"

"You know cats do. Probably even pollicles, too. It's not right."

"I don't believe you. And you say I'm impossible."

"Sometimes I really hate you, Munkus." Demeter rose to her feet stiffly and strode to the mouth of the den, a paw touching to the smooth grain of the entrance. "Sometimes I think it really does run in the blood."

She hadn't even the chance to exit before Munkustrap shoved past her, breaking into a run toward the docks.

* * *

Munkustrap had sat with his back to one of the wooden support beams on the dock when he heard the noise. It was faint, but keen ears recognized the tones belonged to Jellicles. Without rising, he turned his head to observe. Through the mild fog, he could make out the figures: his brother and Bombalurina. Crossly, he considered reaming them out for their rampant affair but it wasn't his place, both were single, and he knew that was a product of jealousy and anger after his fight with Demeter.

"He couldn't have gotten too far," Bombalurina offered, exhaling. "I don't understand it. I've never seen them fight like this before."

"Happens. Cats fight, and they make up," Tugger walked slowly, words lackluster.

"Or they don't."

"… or they don't."

"Do you think you'll be able to make up with him?"

"… no."

"With that attitude it won't get you anywhere."

"I didn't say I didn't want to make up. I just don't think it'll happen," Tugger snapped before a paw smoothed through his thick mane. "And you can tell Demeter to stop being such a bitch to Munk."

"Your brother's been a complete asshole."

"He's _Munk_. That's asshole by definition."

"Must run in the family."

_Déjà vu_, Munkustrap thought, still silent as he watched. Tugger stiffened a bit before snorting.

"Maybe it does." His pace slowed to a halt. "But if that means I'm more like Munk, then I'm not complaining."

_More like him?_

Stunned was the understatement for the grey tom. The Rum Tum Tugger always wanted his own show, only seeming remotely modest toward Old Deuteronomy. Munkustrap hadn't thought it unnatural that his brother was upset with his break up, however he never considered himself to be any sort of role model, and couldn't honestly see a resemblance.

He was so caught up in thought that he almost didn't catch Tugger's voice as the cat called, "Hey Munk? You here?"

Munkustrap thought about not answering, about letting them pass, but Tugger was always a curious cat. He'd investigate, then would question his silence. "Yeah," he answered, clearing his voice as he raised it. "Yeah, by the water." Grunting, he pulled himself to his feet, then padded toward the pair. Neither looked surprised to see him. "What's up?"

"Demeter was upset. She said she didn't mean it," Bombalurina began, Tugger offering a small snort of distaste.

"She wants _you_ to apologize to _her_," Tugger emphasized.

"Sod off," Bombalurina spat. "She's sorry too, but he didn't need to tell her off."

Munkustrap folded his arms over his chest. "Tell her off? She said she'd rather our daughter date a sick, contagious tom than a healthy queen-kitten. How am I not supposed to be upset by that?"

Surprise crossed both Tugger and Bombalurina's faces, but for different reasons.

"She… didn't want Jemima dating a queen?" Bombalurina asked hoarsely, then, more firmly and quickly, "Why? Did she give a reason?"

"Forget that, you actually _don't care_?" Tugger interrupted, amazed.

"Tugger, would you shut the hell up? This is serious," Bombalurina argued, but Tugger snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

"Dude, she's a homophobe. Point taken. But Munk, seriously? You really _don't care_?"

"I-" the argument was too heated, too fast for the gray tom to think. "No, I don't, but-"

"Did she give you a reason? Did you know about that before? Was it a circumstance? Surely there was something." Bombalurina pressed on.

And, yet again, Tugger interrupted. "Bomba, would you shut up a minute? This is serious! This whole time I thought Munk was shitting me with his 'I don't care about you being a fag' shit, but he really doesn't. You really don't, do you?" By the end, Tugger's face was aglow, some sort of optimism on his face, or maybe a revelation of joy.

Much to Tugger's surprise, Bombalurina didn't share his pleasure.

"TUGGER! YOUR FAGGOTRY IS _NOT_ MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS!"

"OF COURSE IT'S MORE IMPORTANT! WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT DEMETER?"

"Me," Munkustrap cut in, and the two cats were silent. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a deeper sigh and some contemplation. "Just… give me a second to process all this, okay?" A deep breath. "Did Demeter send you two to find me?"

"No," Bombalurina replied.

"…and you came to tell me this because..?"

"Demeter was too upset to do it herself," the red queen added.

"And apparently," Munkustrap continued, "I was the only cat she said anything about disliking our daughter mating a queen? Or her not being exactly for two same-sex cats together?"

Both cats nodded, a quieter expression on both of their faces.

Munkustrap sighed heavily. "Okay. Okay." A deep breath. "Bombalurina, she never mentioned anything about two queens or two toms together before. She thought Jemima would be ridiculed, and that was the reason for her opposition; I don't quite buy that. And Tugger," he paused as he looked to his brother. "I never called you a faggot; that was all you. I said I didn't care who you were with as long as you were happy."

"I… it was a figure of speech," Tugger fumbled.

Munkustrap arched an eyebrow, then looked to Bombalurina. "Does she know about..?"

"Misto? Yeah. She knows."

"I thought you didn't tell anyone."

"I didn't. She figured it out."

"Oh."

"I don't think it's a big issue," Bombalurina cut in.

"That's because you lezzed out."

The fiery queen drew her palm against his cheek. "Tugger, what the fuck don't you get about shutting up?"

"Whaaaaat? You did! You don't need to hit me."

Munkustrap looked between the two before offering another groan. "You two are giving me a headache."

"Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing," a darker voice said from the shadows, the fur on the three cats bodies rising. The low rumble of thunder was heard, then the small cackle of a laugh and, though Demeter wasn't there to utter the name, the trio knew.

Munkustrap stepped forth in a crouch, eyes narrowed, arms wide to protect the other two as he watched the form emerge from the shadows, tall boots and a long coat adding to the illusion of terror.

"Go away, Macavity," Munkustrap growled.

"Free turf, Munkustrap. Free turf."

"Bastard. What do you want?"

"What I always want." Red eyes burned.

"You can't have her," Munkustrap growled. "Demeter is mine."

"Because you stole her from me. We had plans."

"She left you. Anyone would."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It is," he growled.

Macavity took another step forth, then yet another, Munkustrap holding his ground. A glance was given behind his shoulder. "Go," he instructed Tugger and Bombalurina.

"We're not leaving you," Bombalurina argued.

"I said _go!_"

Tugger didn't need to hear it again as he bolted, Bombalurina not far behind him though she looked over her shoulder, the desire to protect him overwhelming. Soon, she was gone. And, left alone, the two toms faced off with narrowed eyes.

"Can't we have a civil talk, big brother?" Macavity taunted.

"What do you want, Macavity?"

"I came to see if my brazen, disobedient daughter gave birth yet so I'd have an appropriate heir." A smirk played on his face, something coy. "I have so many possibilities that it will be hard to choose from them all."

Munkustrap's lips pulled back to bare his teeth.

"And it's a shame, Munkustrap, that my first born son ended up being such a pansy. I was hoping instead that the 'Magical Mr. Mistoffelees' would have turned out to be yours."

"Shut up."

"Or should I say the Rum Tum Tugger's?"

"Shut up!"

"Oh, what irony that would have been. Too bad there isn't such a term equivalent to motherfucker."

"SHUT UP!" Munkustrap lunged forth, paws moving back to strike but Macavity was faster, flipping the other on his back with ease before straddling his chest, knees pinning down his shoulders. A growl came from the back of Munkustrap's throat, but Macavity made no effort as to move or harm him.

"Here's a riddle for you. Tell me, Munkustrap, just _how curious_ is our dear baby brother? What made him so curious?"

"How the hell is that a riddle?"

"Perhaps more rhetorical question.

"You should leave the stories to someone who can deal them."

"Such as yourself?"

Munkustrap didn't answer, and Macavity chuckled.

"Oh, Munkustrap, Munkustrap, Munkustrap. All this time you never suspected anything? The Rum Tum Tugger never told you? He certainly didn't tell Daddy Dearest."

"I'm losing patience."

"Pity, because I have all day." Macavity stretched his back. "Truly, you never once questioned why he became so sexual so young? How he seemed to flip a switch?"

Munkustrap's expression changed. "… sometimes," he admitted.

"You should ask him about it sometime. You might learn a thing, or two."

And Macavity leapt off of the cat, hands in his pockets as he strode off. "Do tell our darling little brother that I send my best."

Munkustrap rubbed his wrists as he rose to his feet, eyes narrowing, ignoring the bait to chase the other, to yell an obscenity. He wanted to forget the whole ordeal, really, but that would be impossible. Macavity was a liar, a cheat, a villain—but usually he didn't seem quite so pleased with himself when lying.

Hands shoving in the pockets of his jeans, he walked briskly, the events replaying in his mind. It was overwhelming. Obscenely overwhelming. And Macavity, that bastard, had his attention captured. A bit too focused, maybe, as he came to an abrupt halt, nearly bumping into the black cat that stopped before him.

Just what he needed…

"Mistoffe-"

"I just wanted to let you know how much you ruined my life," the cat said point-blank.

"I didn't shun you-"

"You took away the one thing that meant most to me. Forget everything else."

Munkustrap sighed. "If the tribe found out you two were together with him being your uncle, do you know what would happen to you?"

"Like Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer aren't fucking."

"Everyone looks at them."

"Right. That's it. They _look_. I can deal."

"But they also have other affiliates," Munkustrap protested. "One in particular everyone abhors, and those punks who hurt Tumblebrutus."

"Are you including yourself in the punk category?"

Munkustrap took a step backward as if punched, and stared. Mistoffelees gave a small snort as he shoved past the other.

"I hope you're happy, because you ruined all chances of me ever being happy again!"

"Misto, wait-"

But there was blinding light, and the magical cat was gone.

_To Be Continued…_

_

* * *

_

A/N: So uh, Hi. Miss me? I don't see why you would but uh. Hiiiiii. Yeah, about that break from posting, that was because of grad school. I've worked on this chapter for months, actually, and thought it'd be up sooner but RL got in the way. It was a little too linear for my tastes but I think it worked fairly well, do you?

Also, incase you didn't guess, which I'm sure you all did because I have to say all of the people who have been reading and leaving comments (I try to get back to you guys, I really, REALLY do appreciate it, but school is sometimes too out of control), this is about the point when things start going sour. Here's hoping there's something of comedic value in the next chapter! Probably not, and probably more perversion, but hey works for me!


	6. Harsh Words

Disclaimer: The RUG has nothing to do with this fanfiction, and I'd be mortified if they did. If you like having your childhood ruined, this is the fic for you.

**VI – Harsh Words**

* * *

"You're getting bigger," Plato said gently, fingers tracing the bulge of Victoria's stomach underneath her shirt before he pressed his palm flat against it. He smoothed over that soft fur before sighing. "I don't feel them moving."

"Doesn't always happen on command, Plato." She shifted on her side to be in a more comfortable position on the pillow they lay on. Plato's den was large, and usually very messy, but she'd noticed that it was slowly getting cleaner. Neater. He always tried so hard.

"Yeah, but I haven't felt even one kick or anything. You're sure they're in there."

"Where else would they be, Plato?" Victoria laughed before kissing Plato sweetly. "Everything's fine, Plato."

"But we should feel something, right? That's normal, right?"

"I don't know, Plato."

"But you know everything!" Plato spluttered.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, Plato," Alonzo said, hands lifted up defensively as he walked into Plato's den. "You're going in circles, man."

"But I want to make sure it's okay. That there isn't anything wrong."

"He's just trying to be sweet," Victoria offered by means of explanation with a sigh. "He's just nervous."

"Of course I'm nervous. They're my kittens in there." Plato gripped at his hair, torso rounding forward. He looked almost on the verge of tears when Alonzo cut across the den and sat on the other side of his best friend, an arm around Plato's shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey… easy. Easy. Deep breaths, buddy. Deep breaths."

"You're not being sarcactus. Something's wrong."

"Sar-what?" Alonzo blinked.

"Sarcactus. You know, when you're a complete dick to me and say the opposite of what you mean."

"Sarcastic, sweetie," Victoria sighed. "The word's sarcastic."

"Everlasting Cat, you get pissed at me when I'm normal, and pissed at me for not being a dick. What do you want, dude? Seriously…" Plato didn't answer Alonzo except for a shrug of his shoulders.

"Anyway, I do need to go back to my humans," Victoria said as she rose to her feet. "Alonzo, are you going to be around with him?"

"Yeah, yeah, I've got nothing else planned."

"We should walk you back. It's not safe," Plato murmured.

"It's all right, Plato. I'm going with the girls."

"Yeah, but-"

"Plato, I'll be fine," Victoria insisted, bending over to kiss him as she pat Alonzo on the shoulder. "Take him out to have some fun, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alonzo replied with a mock salute as Plato said, "I love you."

"I love you too, Plato," Victoria murmured gently before she left. The moment she was gone, Plato flopped on his back with a groan.

"Fuckkkkkkkk."

"Wet feet?"

"No, I've got sneakers on."

"That's not what I… ugh. Plato, seriously. You need to cheer the fuck up. You're depressing ME!" Alonzo nudged his best friend in the side. "Come on, dude. Seriously. You're gonna be a good dad."

"I've never done the dad thing before."

"No shit."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Like provide for them and shit."

"Fuck, man. Just… fuck."

"Well, you don't have to but that's a sure way to be the biggest asshole on the face of the planet."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

"You know I love her."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"So…"

"So..?"

"Never mind." Alonzo wanted to push Plato to speak more, but that almost always backfired. "So, what's going on with your love life? Nonexistent?"

Alonzo snorted. "Ha. Funny. Only not really."

"I'm serious. Like what's going on with all the bi stuff? You get to bang anyone yet?" Alonzo closed his lips and looked away. Plato's eyes lit up. "You son of a bitch. Ha, ha! And you didn't tell me?"

"It wasn't a big deal…"

"Like hell it's not a big deal. I mean, shit, you're like on your way to becoming a gay!"

"I'm NOT gay. Trust me, I like the tatas."

"Big difference between liking the tatas, and liking fish, if you catch my drift."

"I like fish."

"So dish."

"No."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What? Why not?"

"I just don't."

"Dude, did someone stick it up your-"

"_No._ I topped." He glared at Plato's dubious expression. "I _did._"

"Okay, okay, Jesus, chill out." Plato rubbed the back of his neck. "So, you banged someone, and won't tell me about it. Gotta be Misto"

Alonzo spluttered a little. "How'd you-"

"I told you, anyone who's bi sleeps with him some point sooner or later. Anyone who's even bi-curious."

"I thought you were pulling my leg."

"Nope."

"How'd you know that? That I mean, toms and Misto…"

"I just did."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Plato laughed, and shook his head. "Nooooo thanks. I told you, I'm Tugger-sexual. Anyone else can keep their kosher meat to themselves."

"You're so lewd, and how the hell did you even know what kosher means?"

Plato shrugged. "Just did." Plato's intelligence was always a mystery. Sometimes it annoyed Alonzo to no end, and sometimes it amazed him. Alonzo stretched out next to Plato.

"Hey, you remember when I told you? That I was bi, I mean?"

"Yeah."

"I think Munk's straight."

"He is."

"So, why's it hard to get over him?"

"Hard to get over? I didn't know you liked him enough to have that problem."

"Yeah, well, I did. Do. I mean do."

"Oh."

"Just oh?"

"You can't help who you like, who you love, and who you don't. Just happens." Plato gave a little shrug. "Think about Jemima. If she could help it, she sure as hell wouldn't get so worked up over Brutus."

"Fuck, that was absolutely terrible," Alonzo groaned and shook his head. "Did you see what he looked like?"

"Yeah. Munk did a number on him."

"Jellylorum said he hasn't left the den since. I don't think he's even left his room."

"That's weird." Plato scratched at the back of his head. "Nothing we can do about it."

"You sure?"

"What? I mean, seriously, what could we do? There isn't anything."

"I guess not." Silence passed between them. "Hey Plato?"

"Yeah?"

"If I ever get like that, promise to put me out of my misery?"

"No! Fuck you."

"Come on…"

"No, fuck you."

"Why not? I don't want to be hanging around like that."

"Because you wouldn't be in the first place. I won't allow it. You'll never get sick. You won't be a dumb shit drug addict." Plato sat upright, then got to his feet. He shook his head, and didn't look at Alonzo. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."

"Plato?"

"What?"

"You're the best."

Plato grinned and walked toward the exit. "I know."

* * *

"Hey Tug? You around?" Munkustrap called. Since the scare at the docks, his brother hadn't been seen. Munkustrap fretted around the Junkyard before remembering his brother had a human home, like him. Although Tugger's human home was a bit of a walk from Munkustrap's, he made it in fast time, trotting on his fours, tail sometimes swishing. He was hesitant to enter the cat door without checking to see if the humans were home or not, but eventually did.

His claws lightly clicked on the ground as he walked along the wooden floors. "Tugger?" he called again.

There was a muffled mewl, and Tugger hurriedly appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey, you wanna give me five minutes to…" his voice trailed off as a queen walked around Tugger and down the steps. "… clean up in here," he finished, quiet and embarrassed. Munkustrap watched the queen. He wasn't thrilled, but didn't say anything as he took to the steps himself.

"Come on," Tugger said, bringing him to the room with his plush cat bed, one so large it could easily fit three. Probably did fit three, Munkustrap thought as he crawled in the basket next to his brother.

"I worried about you."

"You told me to run."

"I know. I just was telling you."

"Oh."

"I talked a bit with Macavity."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. But I'm a little concerned." Munkustrap rubbed the back of his neck. "He gave me a riddle."

"He always does that shit."

"About _you._"

"… me? What the fuck did he say about me?"

Munkustrap exhaled heavily. "He said I should talk to you about why you became so curious."

Tugger's whiskers twitched. "I just _am._ Jesus, you don't have to make a dig at me being queer ever chance you get."

"… I think he meant you being interested in sex in general.

Tugger was silent. "… I knew that's what you meant. Just saying."

"Right…"

"I did!"

"Tugger?"

"What?"

"You got active really young if I remember right. Certainly before I did."

"That's because you're a prude."

"Tugger?" For once, his brother didn't answer him. "Tugger, did something happen? Something Dad and me don't know about?" The maine coon flinched and looked away. "Tugger, you know you can tell me anything-"

"Don't make me answer that," Tugger said hurriedly. He took a breath. "Just… don't… make me answer that. Please."

Concern washed over Munkustrap's face. "Oh God, something did happen… Tugger… Tugger, you know you can trust me. You KNOW you can…. Everlasting Cat, what the hell happened?"

"Munk, please, please, please don't."

"If someone hurt you, I swear I will rip their throat out-"

"It wasn't like that!" Tugger snapped. "It wasn't like that at all. He said he cared about me."

Munkustrap blinked. "Who?"

"Who do you think?" Tugger snapped. Then Tugger closed his eyes and curled up, back to Munkustrap. The tip of his tail snapped with each thud. "He said he cared about me, more than anyone else could. And he could show me what it was like to be cared about. I just wanted to know. Just… wanted to know… that's all."

Munkustrap turned in the bed before he crawled over his brother's body, wriggling to get in front of Tugger. He dropped into the soft bed before him. "Then what happened?"

"You know what happened."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do," Tugger sniffled. "Think about it." Tugger scooted close to Munkustrap, close enough to rest his head on his sibling's chest. He refrained from that contact for just a few moments.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Munkustrap whispered.

"Because he said I was filthy. That you'd hate me forever. And if I told Dad, he'd kill me. I tried telling Bomba once, and he hit me so hard-" He broke off. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Okay… it's okay. We don't need to."

"I'm serious. I don't want to."

"I know. I'm not making you."

"Just making sure."

"Tug?"

"What?"

"I don't hate you."

"What?"

"I don't hate you. Never could." Munkustrap wrapped an arm around Tugger's back, and Tugger followed suit.

Tugger rubbed Munkustrap's back. "They made the right choice. Having you be the protector. You protect me."

"Of course I do. You're my little brother. I'm supposed to take care of you by default." He scruffed up Tugger's mane. "Get some rest."

"You staying over?"

"Might as well. Demeter's just about the last Jellicle I want to see at the moment."

"Haven't talked since then?"

"No."

"How's Jemima doing?"

"I don't know," Munkustrap replied guiltily. "I didn't think she'd want to see me for a bit after Tumble."

"You wouldn't have done it if you knew. She knows that, everyone does… everyone messes up sometime, Munk."

"Yeah, but some screw ups are worse than the others. This was one of those times." Munkustrap rubbed over his brother's back and kneaded over the muscle. He could feel his spine and ribs. "You're not eating."

"We're talking about you, not me."

"Tugger, this is serious. How much weight did you lose?"

"Your daughter's giving you silent treatment."

"Tugger!" Munkustrap took Tugger's jaw and forced his face up. "Tugger, listen to me. Do you know how worried sick I am over you? You're becoming a skeleton, there's this past… Tugger, this explains so much." He ran his hand over the back of Tugger's head, but Tugger pushed back.

"I don't want to cuddle anymore. You can go if you want to."

"I'm staying."

"They'll think you're one of my lady friends."

"They'd be blind if they didn't notice the family jewels."

Tugger couldn't help but laugh. For that moment, it seemed okay, for that one small moment, it'd be all right. Munkustrap knew it wouldn't be all right for much longer. Maybe months; maybe seconds. They were deteriorating as a tribe. Things were falling apart.

* * *

"Tumble? Tumble, come on, let me in," Pouncival called from outside their bedroom door, trying to pull and push the wood. It would groan but not budge.

"Pouncival, what's wrong?" Asparagus asked.

"Tumble locked me out of the room and won't let me back in."

"I thought you were going to stay with him while I went out with your mother."

"Seriously, I was out of the room like only a minute. Had to piss like a horse."

Asparagus groaned. "Tumblebrutus?" he called, hand on the door, voice loud. "Please open the door." Silence. "You're not in trouble." Silence. "We're worried about you." Silence. "Tumblebrutus, open the door, right now." His voice became sharper. "I'm counting to three."

"Like that'll get him to open the door," Pouncival snorted. "What are you gonna do? Send him to his room on time out?"

"This is a nightmare," Asparagus groaned, shaking his head. "Your mother's trying to get shrimp from the mart to bring back."

"He loves that."

"I know. Hopefully it'll bring him out here."

Pouncival looked at the door. "Can't we just take it down?"

"I want him to be able to trust us."

There was the loud sound of a thud on the other side of the door. Asparagus and Pouncival looked at each other before their claws extended, digging into the wood as they yanked, and yanked, and finally it was pulled off the small wall, landing in a heap. The small dresser was shoved in front of the door where the knob had been, the other having fallen over. Tumblebrutus dug through it wildly, eyes wide, frantic, and angry. He was naked. His body was gaunt and strangely filthy for the normally tidy cat. There were scars on his wrists from injection needles, and some that looked suspiciously like cuts. The damage Munkustrap did wasn't entirely healed, some of the bruises were fading to yellow. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the residue of nip on his nostrils, his chest, his body. He was using, and clearly looking for more.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Asparagus bellowed as they climbed over the dresser in the room. Tumblebrutus didn't bother running, but he fought against them, thrusting his arms around them to try and get to the drawers again. "There's more, there's more, there has to be more."

"Are you fucking INSANE, Brutus?" Pouncival snarled. "This is the shit that got you sick in the first place, this is the shit that fucked everyone up."

_"I need it!" _

"Tumblebrutus, stop it this instant. You're officially grounded, do you understand that?" Asparagus yelled.

"You're not my Dad, you can't tell me what to do!" Tumblebrutus barked.

"What did…" Asparagus couldn't finish the sentence.

"I said you're not my Dad, you can't frickin' tell me what to do!" Asparagus' arm dropped, but before Tumblebrutus could think of running or looking for more of the drug, he felt the sting across his cheek from Pouncival slapping him.

"You… bastard," Pouncival growled. "You… damn… bastard. He helped raise you, he's family, he's as much your father as he's mine. How many other toms would take you in as their own? You ungrateful bastard! Look at what the nip' doing to you! You're not mean, you're not nasty! You're not being YOU! Why did you slip up? You were doing so well."

"Because it makes me not feel pain!"

"There are other ways! Pain killers, massage-"

"Why does it matter what I use for it? I'm gonna die anyway."

The words hit Pouncival hard. He dropped his hands from his brother's side. Tumblebrutus wiped his face before he walked toward the bed, stopping to pick up the pile of clothes he dropped there. He kept his back to his family as he pulled them on, though that wouldn't have changed anything. Pouncival looked at Asparagus. He tried to imagine what he was thinking about his step-son. There was so much history, history that Pouncival barely knew.

"Tumble… Tumble, you can't give up," Pouncival pleaded. "You could… you could get a little better…"

"And what? Live another few years? Months?"

"That's worth it! There's so much life ahead of you."

"I never got to be intimate with a queen. I'll never have that chance. You think I want to see and hear about all you guys and your friends with the queens? With the toms? What would you care? You told me about all the ones you slept with."

Pouncival felt his cheeks get hot. He looked to his father and swallowed. "Can… uh… Can… Tumble and me be alone for a little while? You could put the door back up." He didn't need to say it a second time. Pouncival didn't know whether his father looked more disgusted or disappointed. The door was rest against the top frame, unhinged. Just there.

Tumblebrutus crawled on the bed and under the covers. Pouncival did the same.

"You have your own bed," Tumblebrutus muttered.

"I know, just… just look, let's talk. I'm sorry I hit you." He paused. "I just… Dad really does care about you like a son. You know that. When you're not high anymore, you'll know it."

Tumblebrutus closed his eyes. "Maybe it'd be better if I went back to the humans."

"No!" Pouncival's eyes widened. "Tumble… Tumble, this… you need to have faith. This doesn't mean you're necessarily going to die."

"You said I wouldn't get better!" Tumblebrutus yelled, sitting upright. The blankets pulled with him forming a tent around the pair, though Tumblebrutus' eyes were hidden, trapped in the fabric.

"It's a virus, Brutus. They never go away," Pouncival shuddered. "You can… you can still have a fulfilling life. We can… we can get you a queen friend. I'm sure we could figure out a way that's safe for you to be able to be intimate."

"It won't be the same."

"No, but it'll still be good. And you can kiss Jemima all you want. And hey, I bet she'd let you feel her up."

"I'm not going to her again. Not after Munkustrap. Never again. Never again."

"Tumble…" Tumblebrutus wasn't in the mood for talking anymore, indicating this as he lay back down and curled up, back to Pouncival. "Mom's getting you shrimp," Pouncival tried.

"I don't care."

"She went to a lot of trouble to get it for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"You gotta eat."

"Just shut up… let me at least finish my high."

Pouncival bit his lip although he nodded his head. He hugged his younger sibling's back to his chest, face in between his shoulder blades. If he didn't get sick, Brutus would have made it big somehow. Pouncival just knew it. Tumblebrutus was always too sweet faced, too innocent, but his talent was almost unmatched. Pouncival wondered if his brother's dancing could have evolved past that of Mistoffelees', something that he suspected the other cats contemplated as well.

But that was a depressing thought. They would never find out who was the better dancer, not then, not ever. Pouncival wished more than anything that he could have said something, anything, differently than what he told Tumble, what he said about his brother's life. That he could have been smart enough to think of some lie, or maybe have discretion when talking about queens, or anything.

He rubbed Tumblebrutus' side, feeling the indents between his ribs, and sighed. "I'm so sorry, Tumble…" Pouncival whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Tumblebrutus trembled, and Pouncival squeezed him tightly. Then, Tumblebrutus whispered, "I don't—I don't wanna die."

Pouncival grabbed Tumblebrutus roughly by the side and pulled him over, grabbing him to pull him into a tight embrace. Tumblebrutus was shocked to hear his older brother scream, to feel the wetness against his shoulder from his own brother's tears. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Pouncival cry. At least not very well. He thought maybe he did when he got dumped by one of the queens, but it was never like this. He always was the one who tried not to cry.

Tumblebrutus slowly pulled Pouncival closer, and Pouncival screamed a second time. He didn't know what to say or do. "Pounce?"

"Please!" Pouncival begged. "Please, please, please don't give up! Please promise me you won't! PLEASE! I need you!"

"Pounce-"

"_PLEASE!_ I need you. I NEED YOU!" Pouncival squeezed tighter.

"Pounce, you're hurting me-"

"I'm always hurting you! I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Pouncival shoved back from Tumblebrutus as he stalked to his bed, kicking at the mound of laundry before he flopped on it face first. He screamed into his pillow. Screamed loud and cried hard.

* * *

Pouncival didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew he had to have when he blinked his eyes sleepily and looked around the room. The dresser was pushed back in its place, the door properly put up. He bolted out of bed and looked around the room—it was empty.

"Mom? Mom, Dad, where's Tumble? Mom?" he yelled, running from his room before stopping. His parents were sitting on each side of Tumblebrutus, watching as he ate softened meat, something that they didn't come across unless one of the cats stole it from human territory. His brother licked his lips and chin as some of the fat dribbled down, sometimes wiping it clean with his sweater sleeve. Pouncival remembered when Jenny had the mice crochet them. Both toms tried to avoid wearing them as much as possible. They were embarrassing. Yet Tumblebrutus wore it then. It fit him years ago, and it still fit him now, although a little more snug. It did look warm, something to cover his frail bones.

"Pounce," Jellylorum breathed heavily. She looked weary. She looked old. "We saved dinner for you. We didn't want to wake you up."

Tumblebrutus licked his lips again, eyes lifting to meet his brother's face. Although neither spoke, they exchanged words:

_I'm sorry, Pounce._

_ I know._

Pouncival sat across from his brother, and took the offered dish of food. He wanted to put it on his brother's plate, but he was certain his brother would stop eating altogether if he did.

Asparagus sighed and looked at Jellylorum. "Maybe I shouldn't be here."

"What?" Jellylorum was stunned.

"I upset him enough as is."

"Dad, don't go," Pouncival pleaded. "Tumble didn't mean it, right? You didn't mean it, Brutus?"

"Didn't mean what?" Jellylorum asked. "Tumble? Tumble, what did you say?" Tumblebrutus looked down at his food. "Tumblebrutus, that's not a request. That's an order."

"Jelly, don't make him-"

"I said he wasn't my dad," Tumblebrutus finally said, not lifting his head.

Jellylorum looked pale. "Of course he is. He's your stepfather. He practically raised you. How could you say such a thing?"

"I don't know."

"I want you to apologize to him this instant."

"Don't make him," Asparagus sighed. "Maybe it's better that he knows about his real father."

Tumblebrutus looked startled. "You know who my real—my biological father was?"

Jellylorum bunched her fists up, and even Pouncival looked surprised. Despite being brothers, Tumblebrutus had a fairly empty slate in his past. He always admired his father for being so gentle and doting to Tumblebrutus despite the kit being out of wedlock. But no one had questioned it.

Most of the kits asked about their parents. A lot wanted to know their origins. Sometimes they asked other questions. Pouncival remembered the day when Socrates left. They were young and playing when Skimbleshanks walked to them and called Plato over.

"Your dad's gone."

"Where?"

"He… had things he needed to do."

"When's he coming back?"

"He's not."

"He has to come back. You're lying! You're lying! DADDY!"

It was the first time Pouncival saw Plato cry. He cried a lot that year. Jennyanydots had tried to raise him but the kit bore so much sorrow her efforts felt futile. When he was a teenager, he began to live on his own, began the life of being a stray.

Pouncival overheard his father talking with Skimbleshanks about it once. "That son of a bitch, abandoning his only son."

"It's repulsive. I had so much respect for him before this."

"Same. And it's his own fault the kid's stupid."

"Slow. Not stupid."

"There's no difference." Skimbleshanks drank from the bottle of scotch he had before passing it to Asparagus. "If you're gonna do your sister, you're gonna have to face the consequences. He's a bloody coward."

Pouncival shook his head, then looked around the table. His father looked resigned, his mother upset, and his brother confused. Asparagus sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Your mother got in a bad situation once with a younger tom. It happened at the Jellicle Ball. I was the watcher that year—and with the spirituality…"

"I should have stopped him," Jellylorum whispered.

"You couldn't do anything. It wasn't your fault." He rubbed his forehead. Pouncival found himself leaning forward, trying to take in their words, yet Tumblebrutus looked fairly immobile. His back was rigid. "It was all fast. Nothing could be done with the ceremony."

"You're saying that another Jellicle did it?" Pouncival asked.

Jellylorum's eyes got wet. "He was smart… do that in front of everyone… you get away with it."

"You didn't want me, did you?" Tumblebrutus finally asked.

"What? Oh, no. No, no, no, baby. I love you. I love you so much. I just… I only wish Asparagus were your father. Then… then it'd have been better for everyone."

"We should have told you this earlier…" Asparagus lamented.

A peculiar expression came to Tumblebrutus' face. He looked at his brother and swallowed. Pouncival reached his hands beneath the table and took Tumblebrutus'. He expected his sibling to pull out of his grasp, but his brother only squeezed tighter. Pouncival understood—Tumblebrutus needed reassurance. He needed comfort. He needed someone to hold his hand. He needed permission to ask it.

"Who…?" Tumblebrutus faintly got out, unable to finish the question. Asparagus and Jellylorum looked at each other, silently debating who would tell. Jellylorum rubbed at her eyes, then took a deep breath,

"Macavity."

_To Be Continued…_

* * *

A/N: SURPRISE! Bet you didn't see that one coming! Anyway, is anyone still reading this? I wouldn't blame people for abandoning it. I'm terrible at posting.

Anyway, the plot thickens, doesn't it? I think Misto accidentally is keepin' it in the family, if you get what I'm saying. Oops.

Next chapter is probably a heavy one. You have been warned.


End file.
